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Photographic 

Sciences 
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CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHM/ICMH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  de  microreproductions  historiques 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notes/Notes  techniques  et  bibliographiques 


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D 


D 


y 


D 


D 


Coloured  covers/ 
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I      I    Covers  damaged/ 


Couverture  endommag^e 


Covers  restored  and/or  laminated/ 
Couverture  restaurde  et/ou  pellicu.Ae 


I      I    Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 

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modification  dans  la  mdthode  normale  de  filmage 
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D 
0 
0 
Q 
D 
0 


O 
0 


Coloured  pages/ 
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Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommag^es 

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Ca  document  est  filmA  au  taux  de  reduction  indiquA  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

y 

12X 

16X 

20X 

a4x 

28X 

32X 

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sion, and  ending  on  the  last  page  with  a  printed 
or  illustrated  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  -h»>  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  y  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 

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beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  the 
method: 


L'exemplaire  filmd  fut  reproduit  grdce  d  la 
g^n^rositd  de: 

Lakehead  University 
Thunder  Bay 

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plus  grand  soin,  compte  tenu  de  la  condition  et 
de  la  netteti  de  l'exemplaire  film6,  et  en 
conformity  avec  les  conditions  du  contrat  de 
filmage. 

Les  exemplaires  originaux  dont  la  couverture  en 
papier  est  imprimis  sent  filmds  en  commen^ant 
par  le  premier  plat  et  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
dernlAre  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  le  second 
plat,  salon  le  cas.  Tous  les  autres  exemplaires 
originaux  sont  filmAs  en  con^menpant  par  la 
premiere  page  qui  comporte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  et  en  terminant  par 
la  dernidre  page  qui  comporte  une  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboles  suivants  apparaTtra  sur  la 
dernidre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  — »>  signifie  "A  SUIVRE",  le 
symbols  V  signifie  "FIN". 

Les  cartes,  planches,  tableaux,  etc.,  peuvent  dtre 
filmis  6  des  taux  de  reduction  diffdrents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  dtre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  film6  A  partir 
de  I'angle  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  6  droite, 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imeges  nicessaire.  Les  diagrammes  suivants 
illustrent  la  mithode. 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

S 

6 

k 


tf 


>  X  ' 


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/>///  '       V//////'/' 


SIHIAW  '  SHAW  WA  J»i«' Jf/i  SB  _   'JV'^  h''/,<-» 


^p^*^^^ 


NARliATIVE 


ov 


THE  CAPTIVITY  AND  ADVENTUUES 


OF 


JOHN    TANNER, 


1  IT.  S.  INTKnPHETER  AT  THE  SAUT  DE  STE.  MARIE. ) 


DURIXfi 


THIRTY  YEARS  RESIDENCE  AMONG  THE  INDIANS 


):j  the 


INTERIOR  OF  NORTH  AMERICA. 


PREPARED  FOR  THE  PBE&3 

BY  EDWIN  JAMES,  IW.  D. 


'  .*   ■ 


Editor  of  an  Account  of  Major  Long-'s  Expedition  from  Piltaburgli 
to  the  Rocky  Muuntaine. 


NEW-YORK : 

G.  4  C.  A II.  CARVILL,  108  BROADWAY 

1830. 


tm 


wm^- iiHtf^^- 


Southern  DislrkI  of  Netje-York,  ss. 

BE  IT  REMKMBKRKD,  Thai  on  tlic  mnfh  day  of  April,  A.  D.  1830,  in  the  fift}-- 
fourtli  ypar  of  the  ImleptindiMicc  ol'  the  tJnitml  States  of  Amnrica,  G.  &  C.  &  H.  Cnrvill, 
of  the  said  disliict,  have  dojiosited  in  this  otlice  llie  title  of  a  Ixiok,  the  right  whereof 
they  claim  as  proprietors,  in  the  words  following,  to  wit : — 

A  Narrative  of  the  Captivity  and  Adventures  of  John  Tanner,  (U.  S.  Interpreter  at  the 
Sant  de  Stc  Marie,)  during  tJiiirty  years  residcnr*  among  the  Indiajis  in  the  interior  of 
North  America.  Prepan^  for  the  press  by  Edwin  James,  M.  D  Editor  of  an  Account  of 
Major  Long's  Expedition  from  Pittsl)\irgh  totlie  Rocky  Mountains," 

In  confoimity  to  tlie  Act  of  the  Congress  of  the  United  StaU-s,  entitled,  "An  A'U  for  the  en- 
couragement of  Learning,  by  securing  the  copies  of  Maps,  Chans,  and  Books,  to  the 
authors  and  proprietors  of  such  copies,  during  the  time  therein  mentioned."  And  also  to 
an  Act,  entitled,  "  An  Act,  supplementary  to  an  Act,  entitled,  an  Act  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  I>Miriiing,  by  securing  the  copies  of  Maps,  Charts,  and  Books,  to  the  authors  and 
proprietors  of  sijcli  copies,  during  the  times  therein  mentioned,  and  ext<?nding  the  benefits 
thereof  to  the  arts  of  designing,  engraving,  and  etching  historical  and  other  prints." 

FRED.  J.  BETTS, 
aierk  of  the.  Southern  District  of  Ncm-York 


7   / 


^^ft^'*'^^ 


INTRODUCTORY  CHAPTER. 

John  Tanner,  wlioso  life  and  adventures  are  detailed  in  the 
followinaf  pngei^,  is  now  almut  lilty  years  of  age.  His  per  !u  is 
erect  and  rather  robust,  indicating  great  I  tardiness,  activit  ,  find 
strength,  whicii,  however,  his  numerous  ex}^)osures  and  suller- 
ings  have  deeply  impaired.  His  face,  which  was  originally 
rather  handsome,  l)ears  now  numerous  traces  of  tliought  and 
passion,  as  well  as  of  age  ;  his  quick  and  piercing  blue  eyes?, 
besj)eak  the  stern,  the  violent,  and  uncontjuerable  spiri),  which 
rendered  him  an  ol)iect  of  fear  to  many  of  the  Indians-  while  he- 
remained  among  them,  and  which  still,  in  some  measure,  dis- 
qnaiilies  him  for  tiiat  submissive  and  compliant  manner  which 
his  dependent  situation  among  the  whites  renders  necessary. 
Carefully  instructed  in  early  youth,  in  all  those  principles  and 
mavims  which  constitute  the  moral  code  of  the  unsophisticated 
and  uncorrupted  Indian,  his  ideas  of  right  and  wrong,  of  ho- 
nourable and  dishonourable,  dill'er,  of  course,  very  essentially 
from  those  of  white  men.  His  isolated  .  d  friendless  situation, 
iu  the  midst  of  a  community  where  the  right  of  private  warfare 
is  lecognized  as  almost  the  oidy  defence  of  individual  posses- 
sions, the  only  barrier  between  man  and  man,  was  certainly  in 
the  higliest  degree  unfavourable  to  the  formation  of  th;it  en- 
during iiid  patient  submissiveness,  which,  in  civili/ed  scxMetiep, 
surrenders  so  great  a  share  of  individual  rights  to  the  strong 
guanlianship  of  the  law.  Accordingly,  to  a  correct  sense  of  na- 
tin'al  justice,  he  unites  a  hill  share  of  that  indomitable  and  un 
tiring  spirit  of  revenge,  so  prominent  in  the  Indian  character. 
The  circumstimces  into  which  he  has  l3een  thrown,  among  a 
wild  and  lawless  race,  have  taught  him  to  consider  himself  in 
all  situiUinns,  the  avenger  of  his  own  »|uarrel ;  and  if,  in  the 
better  reguLfrCil  comtiiLUiity  into  which  he  has  been  recently 


4 


TANNERS    KARRATIVK. 


J  •!£ 


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i!. 


^ 


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• 


J 


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Si 


■i 


tlra\vn,  he  lias,  1)y  llie  consciousnesrf  of  aggiavaf etl  insult,  ov  in- 
tolerable oppression,  been  driven  «o  seek  redress,  or  to  propose 
it  to  himself,  we  cannot  be  snrprised  that  he  slioiild  have  recur- 
red to  the  method,  which  long  habit,  tnid  the  paranionnt  influ- 
ence of  established  custom,  have  tiuight  him  to  consider  the 
oidy  honourable  and  proper  one.  He  returns  to  the  pale  of  ci- 
vilization, too  late  in  life  to  acquire  the  mental  habits  which 
befit  his  new  situation.  It  is  to  be  regretted,  that  he  should 
ever  meet  among  us  with  those  so  destitute  of  generosity,  as  to 
he  wiUuig  to  take  advantage  of  his  unavoidable  ignorance  of 
the  usages  of  civihzed  society.  He  has  ever  been  found  just 
and  generous,  until  injuries  or  insidts  have  aroused  the  spirit  of 
hatred  and  revenge;  his  gratitude  has  always  been  is  ardent 
and  persevering  as  his  resentment.  But  it  would  be  superllu- 
ons  to  dwell  on  the  features  of  his  character,  whicii  art;  bej^t  dis- 
played in  his  narrative  of  those  events  and  scenes,  to  which  he 
might,  with  so  much  propriety,  apply  (he  liackneyed  motto. 

«]ua;que  ipse  miserrima  vkli, 
Et  quorum  pars  magna  lui. 

The  preceding  remarks  would  not,  perhaps,  have  been  ha- 
zarded, had  not  some  harsh  impntations  been  made  to  rest  on 
lire  character  of  our  narrator,  in  the  distiict  where  he  has  for 
.some  tinie  past  residetl,  in  consequence  of  differences  growing, 
as  appears  to  us,  entirely  out  of  the  circumstance  of  tbe  Indian 
character,  Avith  nifmy  of  its  prominent  peculiarities,  being  inde- 
libly impressed  upon  him.  However  such  a  character  may, 
under  any  circumstances,  excite  our  disapprobation  or  dislike, 
pome  indnlgence  is  duo  where,  as  in  this  case,  the  solitary  sa- 
Aage,  with  his  own  liabits  and  opinions,  is  brought  into  contact 
with  the  artificial  manners  and  complicated  institutions  of  ci- 
■\  ilized  men. 

In  an  attempt  to  aid  this  unfortunate  individual  in  addressing 
his  countrymen,  it  seemed  desirable  to  give  his  narrative,  as 
nearly  as  possible,  in  his  own  words,  and  with  his  own  nwrnner. 
The  narrator  himself  is  not  without  a  share  of  that  kind  of  elo- 
quence which  we  meet  with  among  the  Indians ;  but.  as  this 


^Hfi^^^'^W 


\ 


\ 


lANXF.RS    NAURATlVi:. 


5 


coiiiikis  more  in  action,  eiupliusiis,  iuid  tlic  oxi)re-s;ion  of  tlie 
countenance,  (hail  in  words  and  sentences,  lie.  lias  Ixmmi  followed 
in  the  style  of  the  humblest  narralion.  This  plainness,  it  is 
hoped,  will  render  the  history  little  less  acceptable  to  the.  general 
rca<ler,  while  the  philosophic  inquirer  will  nndoiihlcdlv  prefer 
to  trace,  in  the  simple -t  possible  it'ui-e.  the  operation.- of  a  mind 
subjected  for  so  long  a  time  to  the  inlluenr-e  of  all  the  circnni- 
stances  peculiar  to  savage  life.    It  ouyht  to  be  distinctly  mider- 


it  stands 


ithout 


Htood,  that  his  whole  story  was  given  as  it  stands,  wi 
liints,  suggestions,  leading  (picstions,  or  advice  of  any  kind, 
other  than  "  to  conceal  nothing."  The  sentiments  expressed, 
in  relation  to  the  clwuacter  and  conduct  of  individuals  on  the 
frontiers,  or  in  the  Indian  country,  or  on  other  subjects  connect- 
ed with  tiie  condition  of  the  Indians,  are  exclusively  his  own. 
One  liberty  it  has  been  found  necessary  to  take,  namely,  to 
retrench  or  altogether  to  omit  many  details  of  hunting  adven- 
tures, of  travelling,  and  other  events,  which  in  the  sini[)le  lives 
of  the  Indians  have  oidy  a  moderate  share  of  importance,  but 
on  which,  in  the  lack  of  other  matter,  they  learn  to  dwell  very 
much  at  length  in  those  long  narrative  conversations  with 
which  it  is  their  hal)it  to  amuse  each  other,  it  is  probable 
the  narrator  might  have  pro\cd  more  acceptable  to  many  of  his 
readers,  had  this  retrenchment  been  carried  to  a  greater  extent; 
but  it  is  to  he  remembered,  that  the  life  of  the  savage,  hke  that 
of  the  civilized  man,  is  made  up  of  a  succession  of  little  oc- 
currences, each  unimportant  by  itself,  but  which  require  to  be. 
estimated  in  making  up  an  opinion  of  the  character  of  either. 
Some  particulars  in  Mr.  Tanner's  narrali\e  will  douittless 
cxcile  a  degree  of  incredulity,  among  such  a<  have  never 
attended  particularly  to  the  history  and  condition  of  tlie  Indian 
tribes.  Many  will  find  their  confidence  in  him  mu( '.  ,7 paired, 
wlien  he  tells  of  prophetic  drt;anH,  and  of  the  fulfilnie.it  of  in- 
dications, and  promises,  neces.sarily  implying  the  interference 
of  invisible  and  spiritual  beings.  Ke  will  appear  to  some, 
weakly  credulous — toothers,  stupidly  dishonest ; — so  would  any 
one  among  us,  who  should  gravely  relate  tales,  which  tlie  ad- 

1* 


-  ,11 


/. 


/? 


6 


TANNF.B'S    NAKUATIVlu. 


r        T 


vatice  of  education,  and  the  frcneial  intelligence,  have,  within 
two  centuries,  converted  from  estahlished  doctrines,  to  "  old 
wives  fiihles."  To  ejiforce  tins  rentnrk,  wo  need  not  refer  to 
the  exumples  of  Cotton  Muthci,  and  others  of  his  times,  not 
less  renowned  for  luunan  learnints',  'haii  for  exemplary  piety. 
The  history  of  the  human  mind  in  all  ajres,  and  among  all 
nations,  alli)rds  ahimdant  examples  of  credulity  ;  ch»sely  re- 
seinl»ling  that  which  we  feel  disposed  to  ridicule  or  to  pity  in 
the  savaije.  It  may  he  of  sonii'  importance  toward  a  clear 
comprehension  ol  the  lu  ian  character,  to  he  nssur.Ml  that  the. 
powerful  mind  of  our  narrator,  was  at  all  times  stmngly 
influenced  hy  a  belief  in  the  uhii|uity,  anil  frer|uent  interposi- 
(ions  in  tlie  affairs  of  men,  of  an  over-ruling  Providence,  His 
may  have  been  a  |)urer  and  more  consistent  Theism,  than 
that  of  many  of  his  untaught  companions,  but  in  nian\'  im- 
portant particulars  his  belief  was  the  same  as  theirs.  If  he  was 
less  entirely  than  his  Indiiiii  associates  the  dupe  of  those  crafty 
prophets,  who  are  constantly  springing  up  among  them  :  yet 
it  will  l)e  found  he  had  not,  atall  times,  entire  confidence  in  the 
decisions  of  his  own  uiind,  which  tan<rht  him  to  despise  their 
knavery,  and  to  ridicule  their  preteusinus.  In  all  times  of 
severe  distress,  or  of  uruent  danger,  the  [iidiaii<,  like  other  men. 
are  accustomed  to  supplicate  aid  from  superior  beings,  and 
they  are  often  confideni  that  a  gracious  answer  has  been  grant- 
ed to  their  petitions.  'IMiis  belief  need  not  shock  the  pious  ; 
as  it  certainly  will  not  appear  in  any  respect  remarkable  to 
those  who  have  accustomed  themsehes  to  close  observance  of 
the  workings  of  the  human  iiiind,  under  all  variations  of  cir- 
cumstances. We  !)elieve  there  is  nothins;  inconsistent  with 
true  reli<rion,or  sound  reason,  in  supposinsr  that  the  same  Lord 
ovcr  all,  is  gracious  uvto  all  who  worship  him  in  f^incerity. 
It  will  be  manifest  also,  that  this  inherent  principle  of  ::'Ii£rious 
feeling  is  made  the  instrument,  by  which  superior  minds 
govern  and  inlluence  the  weaker.  Among  the  Indians,  as 
among  all  other  races,  from  the  times  of  tiie  philos<i|»bic  leader 
of  the  lietrent  of  (he  Ten  Tiuiusand.  to  the  [)resont  day,  reli- 


I.  i 


^ 


K-s. 


,  •?.,- 


TANNKRS    iNARKATIVi;. 


'*    ^m&-^ 


gioii  has  hceu  an  ei  inc  in  the  liands  of  the  few,  vvlio  in  vir- 
tue of  intellectual  or  accidental  superiority,  assume  the  right  to 
govern  the  nmny. 

Doubtless  inany  of  the  representations  in  the  foilowinsr  nar- 
rative, are  somewhat  iiilluenced  by  pcculiiirities  in  the  mental 
constitution,  and  the  accidental  tircunistances  of  the  narr;itor  ; 
yet  making  all  admissil)le  allowances,  they  present  but  a 
gloomy  picture  of  the  condition  of  uncivilized  men.  Having 
acquired  some  idea  of  those  things  considered  most  reprehen- 
sible among  us,  it  would  be  siupiising  if  he  should  not  have 
felt  some  reluctance  to  giving  an  explicit  detail  of  all  his  ad- 
ventures, in  a  conununity  whose  modes  of  thinking  are  ou 
many  subjects  so  dillerent  from  ours.  Traits,  wliich  nnist  in 
our  estimation  constitute  great  blemishes,  he  has  freely  con- 
fessed ;  whether  other  or  greater  faults  remain  nndivulyed  is 
unknown  ;  but  it  should  not  be  forgotten,  that  actions  consiiler- 
ed  among  us  not  only  reprehensible,  but  highly  ciiminal,  arc 
among  them  accounted  sinning  virtues,  in  no  part  of  hid 
narrative  will  he  probably  appear  in  a  more  unfavourable  light, 
than  when  he  details  his  severity  to  an  unfortunate  captive 
girl,  througli  whose  negligence  his  lodge,  and  all  his  little  pro- 
perty, was  consumed  by  fire,  in  the  midst  of  winter.  Tliis 
kind  of  cruelty,  as  well  as  the  abandonment  of  the  sick,  the 
aged,  and  the  dying,  practised  so  extensively  by  the  ( 'hippe- 
wyans,  and  other  northern  Indian^,  and  more  or  less  by  all 
the  tribes,  remind  us,  how  nuich  even  in  what  seem  spontane- 
ous and  natural  courtesies,  we  owe  to  the  infiuence  of  civili- 
zation. The  conduct  of  the  Jndians  in  all  these  cases,  how- 
ever we  may  see  fit  to  call  it,  is  certainly  not  unnatural,  being 
ill  strict  and  implicit  obedience  to  that  impulse  of  nature,  which 
prompts  so  irresistibly  to  self-preservation.  How  admirable  is 
that  complicated  machinery  wliich  in  so  many  instances  avails 
to  overcome  and  control  this  impulse — which  postpones  the 
interest,  the  happiness,  or  the  life  of  the  individual,  to  tlie  good 
of  the  associated  whole  ! 

The  sketch  which  the  follov^ring  narrative  exhibits  of  the 


8 


TANNER  i5    NARRATIVK. 


K 


\    '■ 


evils  and  miseries  of  sav.vicfo  life,  is  pi()])ably  fioe  IVom  exag- 
rj^eraliou  or  distortion.  Few  will  read  it  without  some  seuti- 
inents  of  compassion  for  a  race  so  destitute,  so  debased,  and 
Jiopeless;  gladly  would  we  lielieve,  it  may  have  a  tendency 
(0  call  (he  attention  of  an  enlightened  and  benevolent  com- 
nnuiity,  to  the  wants  of  those  who  are  silting  m  darkness.  In 
vain  do  we  attempt  to  deceive  ourselves,  or  others,  into  the 
belief  that  in  whatever  '•  relates  to  their  moral  condition  and 
prospects,  the  Indians  ha\e  been  giiiners  by  their  hitercoiuse 
with  Europeans."*  Who  can  believe  that  the  introduction  of 
ardent  spirits  among  them,  "  has  added  no  new  item  to  tlic 
catalogue  of  their  crimes,  nor  substracted  one  from  the  list  of 
their  cardinal  virtues?''  Few,  comparatively,  have  the  oppor- 
tunity, fewer  hove  the  inchnation.  to  visit  and  observe  the  In 
dians  in  their  remote  haunts,  or  even  on  our  inunediate  fron- 
tiers ;  all  who  have  dont?  so,  must  be  convinced  that  wherever, 
and  for  w  hatever  purpose,  the  Indian  and  the  white  man  come 
in  contact,  the  former,  in  all  that  relates  to  his  moral  condition, 
is  sure  to  become  severely  and  irretrievably  a  sulferer.  Every 
unbiassed  in(|uirer,  wiio  will  avail  himself  of  the  aljundant 
means  of  information  before  the  public,  will  be  convinced,  that 
during  more  tlum  two  hundred  years,  in  despite  of  all  the 
benevolent  exertions  of  individuals,  of  luunane  associations, 
and  of  governments,  the  direct  tendency  of  the  intercourse  be 
Iween  the  two  races,  has  been  tlie  uniform  and  rapid  depression 
and  deterioration  of  the  Indians. 

Among  the  most  .niive  of  the  extraneous  causes  which 
have  produced  this  conspicuous  and  deplorable  change,  must 
be  reckoned  the  trade  for  peltries,  which  has  been  pushed 
among  them  from  the  earliest  occu|)ation  of  the  country  by 
the  whites.  The  ensuing  narrative  will  afford  some  vieM  s  of 
the  fur  trade,  such  as  it  formerly  existed  hi  the  north  west, 
such  as  it  now  exists  throughout  the  territories  claimed  by  the 
United  States.     Tliese  views  are  certainly  neither  those  of  a 

♦  N.  A.  Review,  No.  CO.  p.  101. 


'*,*;=>•-: 


TANNERS    NAHKATIVt.  •> 

stuiesmau,  oi  a  political  economist,  Iwt  they  may  be  relied  on  oi 
exhibiting  a  fair  exposition  of  the  infinence  of  the  trade  upon  the 
aborigines.  Recently,  the  Indians  in  all  that  wide  portion  of 
North-America,  occupied  by  the  Hudson's  Bay  Fur  Compan}', 
have  been,  by  the  consolidation  of  two  rival  associations,  reh»n'ed 
alike  from  the  evils,  and  deprived  of  the  advantages,  accruijig 
from  an  active  competition  in  the  trade.  Among  other  advanta- 
geous results  supposed  to  be  attained  by  this  exclusion  of  com- 
petition, one,  and  probably  the  most  important,  is  the  eflectua! 
check  it  interposes  to  the  introduction  of  spirits  into  the  Indian 
country.  Even  the  clerks  and  agents  stationed  at  the  remote 
interior  posts,  are  forbidden  to  introduce  the  smallest  quantity 
of  spirit  or  wine,  among  their  private  stores.  This  one  mea- 
sure, incalculably  of  more  value  than  all  that  has  been  effected 
in  times  remote  or  recent,  by  the  interference  of  government?, 
or  the  exertions  of  benevolent  associations,  has  originated  in 
the  prudent  foresight,  and  well  instructed  love  of  gain,  of  an 
association  of  merchants;  and  while  it  makes  us  fully  ac 
quainted  with  the  views  of  those  best  informed  in  relation  to 
the  effect  of  the  introduction  of  whiskey  among  the  Indians, 
it  shows  the  possibility  of  remedying  this  great  evil. 

In  former  times,  when  the  whole  of  the  northwest  of  our 
continent  was  open  to  the  competition  of  rival  traders,  all  the 
evils  and  all  the  advantages  of  the  S3'^stem  at  present  existing 
in  the  United  States  territories,  were  felt  to  the  remotest  and 
least  accessible  of  those  dreary  regions.  The  Indian  could 
probably  in  all  instances  realize  a  higher  price  for  his  peltries, 
than  he  can  hope  to  do  at  present.  The  means  of  intoxica- 
ting himself  and  his  family,  were  always  to  be  had  at  some 
rate,  and  the  produce  of  his  hunt  was  artfully  divided,  and 
disposed  of  in  the  manner  which  seemed  to  promise  him  the 
greatest  share  of  this  deadly  indulgence.  During  the  times  of 
active  competition,  it  was  found  accordingly,  that  the  fur  bear- 
ing animals,  and  the  race  of  native  hunters,  were  hastening  with 
(iqual  and  rapid  strides  towards  utter  extinction.  The  ellect  of  u 
competitionary  trade,  managed,  as  it  will  always  be,  in  districte 

2 


-^^Ir 


10 


tanner's    KAKKATIVL. 


I 

il 
h 


5' 


fr 


"1' 


for  the  niosL  part  or  wholly  without  the  jurisdiction  ot  the 
governments  of  civilized  countries,  upon  the  animals  whose 
skins  constitute  the  sole  object  of  the  visiJs  of  the  traders,  must 
be  obvious.  The  vagrant  and  migratory  habiis  of  the  Indians, 
would  render  it  impossible  for  any  individual,  or  any  association 
of  men,  to  interrupt  or  even  to  check  the  destruction  of  and 
inals,  wherever  they  could  be  found.  The  rival  trader  was 
ever  at  hand  to  take  advantage  of  any  forbearance  a  prudent 
foresight  might  dictate.  Thus  it  will  appe.-ir  that  districts, 
where  game  had  existed  in  the  greatest  abundance,  were  in 
the  course  of  a  few  years  so  stripped,  that  the  inhabitants 
I  ould  avoid  starvation  only  by  migrating  to  st)me  less  ex- 
hausted region.  Wherever  the  Indians  went,  the  traders  were 
sure  to  follow,  as  the  wolves  and  buzzards  follow  the  buflfaloe. 
But  in  the  state  of  things  at  present  existing  in  the  north,  the 
traders  are  represented  to  have  entire  control  of  the  motions 
of  the  Indians.  The  most  valuable  part  of  the  territories  of 
the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  is  the  forest  coimtry.  With  the 
Indians  of  the  plains,  who  subsist  almost  entirely  by  hunting 
th<!  buflfaloe,  they  concern  themselves  no  further  than  to  pur- 
chase such  robes  or  other  peltries  as  they  may,  on  their  visit  to 
a  post,  offer  for  ready  pay.  The  people  of  the. plains  having 
few  possessions  beside  their  horses,  their  bows  and  arrows,  and 
their  garments  of  skins,  are  so  independent,  and  the  animals 
they  hunt  of  so  little  value  to  the  traders,  that  they  arc  left  to 
pursue  whatever  course  their  own  inclination  may  point  out,  and 
at  present  they  never  receive  credits.  With  the  forest  Indians 
the  case  is  quite  dilTerent.  Such  is  their  tirgent  necessity  for 
amnmnition  and  g«ms,  for  traps,  axes,  wtX)llon  blankets,  and 
other  articles  of  foreign  manufactiue,  that  at  the  api>roach  of 
winter,  their  situation  is  almost  hopeless,  if  they  are  deprived 
of  the  supplies  they  have  so  long  been  accustomed  to  receive. 
A  consciousness  of  this  depondance  sufficed,  even  in  times  of 
competition,  to  some  extent,  but  fur  more  at  present,  to  render 
iheni  honest,  and  pimctual  in  discharging  tiie  debts  they  had 
incurred.     The  practice  of  the  traders  now  is,  whetiever  they 


\ 


TANNERS    NAKKATlVi;. 


it 


lind  the  animals  m  any  district  becoming  scarce;  to  wilhdratv 
iheir  trading  establishment,  and  by  removing  to  some  other 
part,  make  it  necessary  for  the  Indians  to  follow.  Regions 
thus  left  at  rest,  are  found  to  beconie,  in  a  few  years,  in  a  greai, 
measure  re|)lenished  with  the  fur-beiuing  animals.  The  two 
regulations  by  which  the  clerks  and  agents  are  Ibrbid  to  pur- 
chase the  skins  of  certain  animals,  if  killed  before  they  have, 
attained  their  full  growth,  and  by  which  the  use  of  traps, 
which  destroy  indiscriminately  old  and  young,  is  interdicted, 
doubtless  contribute  essentially  to  the  attaiiunent  of  this  im- 
jwrtant  residt.  It  cannot  be  otherwise,  than  that  the  moral 
condition  of  the  hunter  population  in  the  north,  must  be 
somewhat  improved,  by  the  severe  discipline  vvhicli  conveni- 
ence and  interest  will  ecjually  prompt  the  Company  |K)ssessing 
the  monopoly  to  introduce  and  maintain ;  but  wlietlier  thiy 
advantage  will,  in  the  event,  counterbalance  the  effect  of  the 
rigid  exactions  to  which  the  Indians  may  l)c  compelled  to  su)> 
niit,  must  be  for  time  to  determine. 

It  is  manifest  that  plans  of  government  adopted  and  enfoi 
ced  to  subserve  the  purposes  of  the  fur  traders,  will  Ik".  framed 
with  the  design  of  keeping  the  Indians  in  a  state  of  efficiency 
as  hunters,  and  nuist  thus  in  the  end  be  directly  opposed  to  all 
ftrtbrts  lo  give  them  those  settled  habits,  that  attachment  to  the 
soil,  and  that  efficient  industry,  which  must  constitute  the  first 
step  in  their  advance  towards  civilization.  Such  are  the  cli- 
mate and  soil  of  a  great  part  of  liie  country  northward  of  the 
great  lakes,  as  to  render  it  extremely  improbable  that  any 
other  than  a  rude  race  of  hunters  will  ever  be  found  there; 
and  for  them  it  would  probably  be  in  vain  to  lio|H;  for  a 
milder  government,  than  such  a  kind  of  despoti-in  as  can  be 
swayed  by  a  company  of  traders.  Hut  within  the  country 
belonging  to  the  United  States,  are  many  rude  tribes  distri- 
buted at  ijitervals  through  boundless  forests,  or  along  smilhig 
and  fertile  plains,  where  it  would  seem  that  industry  and  civi 
li/alion  might  be  introduced.  Here  it  is  not  probable  that  the 
fnr  tradf  can  '"vcr  I.      ;ne  a  protected  and  exihisiv  e  joonopoly  : 


.>:-'**'i»(U^'?**-~v 


(!L> 


'\ 


vz 


iA>NtR's  ^ARRATlv^;. 


I 


!    i 


and  since,  while  conducted  as  it  is,  and  as  it  must  contuiue  to 
be,  it  is  the  most  prohlic  sources  of  evil  to  the  Indians,  it  may 
be  allowed  us,  to  look  forward  to  the  time,  wlien  many  among 
the  remnants  of  the  native  tribes,  shall  escape  from  its  in- 
lluence,  by  becoming  independent  of  the  means  of  subsistence 
it  offers  them. 

Some  change  may  reasonably  be  supposed  to  have  taken 
place  in  the  course  of  two  centuries,  in  the  sentiments  of  the 
European  intruders  towards  their  barbarous  neighbours.  In 
relative  situation,  they  iiave  changed  places.  Those  who  are 
now  powerful  were  then  wealc ;  those  who  now  profess  to  offer 
protection,  then  lookeil  with  anxiety  and  trembling,  upon  the 
superior  strength  of  the  race  which  has  so  soon  perished  from 
before  them.  In  the  early  periods  of  our  colonial  history,  the 
zeal  of  religious  proselytism,  and  the  less  questionable  spirit 
of  true  philanthropy,  seem  not  to  have  availed,  generally,  to 
overcome  the  strong  hatred  of  the  savage  race,  produced  liy 
causes  inseparable  (iom  tht;  f«;eble  and  dependant  condition  of 
the  colonies,  and  from  the  nccessily  which  com[)elled  our  fore 
fathers  to  become  hitruders  upon  the  rightful  possessions  of  tht; 
Indians.  In  the  writings  of  the  early  historiiuis,  particularly  ol' 
the  Puritanical  divines  of  Ncw-llngland,  we  (ind  these  people 
connnonly  described  as  a  brutal  and  deril-drivcn  race,  wild  beastt\ 
hloodliounds,  heathen  demons  ;  no  epithet  was  considered  too  op- 
probrious, no  execration  too  dire,  to  bo  pronounced  against  them.*"' 


V,   ,.f. , 


*  "'I'lu'  lilllt' AiH^frfoiii'.  and  ^-^/of/V.-.',"  snvH  Cotton  i\?i)llu'r,  "  of  Ihr  groat  ineii 
union^  the  Indians,  was  u  iKiworl'iil  obstacle  to  tlic  sncrcss  of  Mr.  KUinl's  minis- 
try ;  and  it  is  olisorvublo,  lliat  M'vrrnl  ol'tliosp  nations  wlio  (lius  rrCuM'd  the  t'osprl, 
were  quickly  al'tor  so  dcril-drivcn  ati  to  begin  an  unjnst  and  liloiHly  war  upon  tho 
En^liHli,  which  iMsned  in  their  speedy  mid  utter  e\tir|)ation  from  the  face  of  (iod's 
eurth.  It  was  piirticninrly  rcinnrkalile  in  I'liilip,  the  ringleader  of  the  niostcalanii- 
touH  war  ever  made  upon  uh;  our  Elliot  made  a  tender  of  the  cm lustinif  salva- 
tion unto  that  king,  hut  the  monster  entertained  it  with  contempt  ami  anger,  hiiiI 
after  the  Inilinn  mode  of  joining  signs  with  words,  he  (inik  a  button  u|M)n  the  coat 
of  the  reverenil  man,  adding,  that  hr  cared  for  his  goapcl  as  nnnh  as  he  raredjor 
that  button.  The  world  has  hoard  what  lerribli^  ruins  soon  came  u|Kin  that  nio- 
uarch  and  npon  all  his  |>co|ile.  It  was  not  long  before  the  h»n<l  that  now  writes, 
(rpon  a  ccrtaiji  occasion,  tuuk  ull'tliu  jaw  fa>ui  llie  oxi)oscd  i>kutl  uf  that  blasphc- 


'lA^^'IiRS    KAKftAlUL. 


I'.i 


It  may  be  supposed,  that  in  losing  tlie  power  which  made 
ihem  formidable,  they  became  less  obnoxious  to  the  hatred  ol 
the  whites.     Accordingly,  we  find  tliat  it  wos  long  since  the 
fashion  to  profess  much  good  will  and  com|Kission  towards  this 
ill-starred  race.     Some  ellbrts  have  been  made,  and  many  moro 
have  been  talked  of,  for  their  civilization,  and  for  their  conversion 
to  the  true  religion.     Here  and  there,  a  Penn  has  appeared 
among   our  statesmen  ;  an  Elliot  or  a  Brainerd  auKjng  oiu' 
religionists — some  have  been  incit<;d  by  motives  of  pure  bene- 
volence, or  by  a  love  of  natural  justice,  to  laljour  perseveringl)' 
and  faithfully  in  the  work  of  reclaiming  and  benefitting  the 
Indians.     Could  we  trust  implicitly  to  the  statements  of  many 
who  in  our  day  write  and  speuk  on  this  subject,  we  might 
infer,  that  the  only  sentiment  inflnenchig  us,  as  a  people,  in 
our  intercourse  with  our  Indian   neighboms,  is  an  ardent  de- 
sire for  the  promotion  of  their    best   interests.      But  if   we- 
estimate   public  sentiment  by  the  surer  criterion   of    public 
measures,  we  must  admit  that  the  present  generation  are  seek- 
ing, with  no  less  zeal  and   earnestness  than  iJieir  forefathers, 
IJie  utter  exterminati(ni  of  these  bloody  and  idohtlmis  Canaan- 
iles.     The  truth  is,  it  has  been,  and  still  is.  <:on\enient  to  con- 
sider this  a  devil  driven  race,  doomed  by  inscrutable  desliny  tn 
sudden  and  entire   destruction.       This  opinion  accords   well 
with  the  convenient  dogma  of   the  moral   philosopher,  who 
teacher  that  such  as  will  make  the  best  use  of  the  soil,  should 
drive  out  and  dis|H)ss(>ss  those  who,  froni  ignonmce  or  indo- 
lence, suffer  it  to  remain  uncuhivaled.     It  is  of  little  im|)ortanco 
tocfivil  at  the  injustice  of  sucli  a  course.     The  rule  of  m  mnjor 
.^ccjns-  to  be  with  ahnosi  ecpial  force  obligatory  on  both  |>artie.-', 


■mous  ^-ria^/iiDi,  luid  tlu'  rcnowiicil  Siiiiiml  l.fr  lialli  since  Ihtii  n  pastor  of  an 
En(;liHh  coiijirt'iiatioii,  soiiM(liii<;!iii<l  Kliowiti^r  l!n'  prm.scs  of  liravcn  \\\H)\i  Ihiit  very 
spot  of  jtroimd  wlion-  t'liilip  mid  his  Indiaiis  wcrr  hilclv  worsliippititr  llir  ncvil.'' 
t'liristiiin  iVlayuzinc,  p.  T)!!.  \'ol.  I.  Boston.  Many  [Kissairi''',  lirciilliiii!;  llji'miiio 
spirit,  will  at  oiico  iH-cur  to  tlic  rciollirtion  of  those  who  arc  faniiliiir  with  tho 
wriiiiiijHof  the  oarly  puritaiiH  of  New-Kii(ilaiid.  When  such  was  the  lao^uo^c 
IcurneH  dixincH  chose  to  nvord  (iir  posterity,  it  is  not  ditficult  to  diwover  whnt 
nittBt  hovn  Iweii  tho  ccneral  lonn  of  feelinu  toward  tlm  Indian*. 


J  4 


TANNERS    NARRATIVE. 


'ill 


i 


and  it  would  perhaps  be  now  as  impossible  for  us  to  avoid  d>& 
placing  the  Indians,  and  occupying  their  country,  as  for  theni 
to  prevent  us. 

The  long  agitated  subject,  of  tlie  "  melioration  of  the  con- 
dition of  the  Indians,"'  appears  therefore  to  present  two  ques- 
tions of  prunary  importance  :  1st.  Can  any  thing  be  effected 
by  our  interference '?  2d.  Have  we  in  our  collective  character, 
as  a  people,  any  disposition  to  interpose  the  least  check  to  the 
downward  career  of  the  Indians  ?  The  last  inquiry  will  be  un- 
hesitatingly answeii'tl  in  the  negative,  by  all  who  are  acquaint- 
ed with  the  established  policy  of  our  govermnent  in  our  inter- 
course with  them.  The  determination  evinced  by  a  great  part 
of  the  jjeople,  and  their  representatives,  to  extinguish  the  Indian 
title  to  all  lands  on  this  side  the  Mississippi — to  push  the  lem- 
)iants  of  these  tribes  into  regions  already  tilled  to  the  utmost 
extent  their  means  of  subsistence  will  allow — manifests,  more. 
cJearly  than  volumes  of  idle  and  empty  professions,  our  inten- 
tions toward  them.  The  vain  mockery  of  treaties,  in  which 
it  is  untleistooil,  tliat  the  nei^otiation,  and  the  reciprocity,  and 
the  benefits,  are  all  on  one  side ;  the  feeble  and  misdirected 
eflbrts  we  make  for  their  civilization  and  instruction,  should 
not,  and  do  not,  deceive  us  into  the  belief  that  we  have  eithoi 
a  regard  for  their  rights,  where  they  happen  to  come  in  com- 
petition with  our  interests,  or  a  sincere  desire  to  promote  the 
cause  of  moral  instruction  among  tlieni.  The  efforts  of  cliari 
table  associations,  originating  as  they  do  in  motives  of  the  most 
unquestional)lc  purity,  may  seem  entitled  to  more  respectful 
notice  ;  l)Utwe  deem  these  efforts,  as  far  as  the  Indians  are  con- 
cerned, eijually  misapplied,  whether  they  be  directed,  as  in  the 
south,  to  drawing  out  from  among  them  a  few  of  their  children, 
and  giving  them  a  smattering  of  "astronomy,  moral  philo.'^o- 
phy,  surveying,  geography,  history,  and  the  use  of  gloltes,"*  or 
as  in  the  north,  in  educating  the  half  breed  children  of  fur 
traders  and  vagabond  Canadians,  in  erecting  workshops  and 

*  L,<>ltrr  to  Col.  M'Kpmicy,  from  the  Priiirii)al  of  thr  [.nnraHtcrian  ("hocktaw 
!^1)<H)I  nt  tbt'  Grent  Crossincs.  Krntucfiv,  iniho  Nationnl  Intellurencer.  Julv.  182S. 


1     ■^ 


u^, 


vf 


■*  ^i^^aw 


TANNER'S    NARRATIVE. 


15 


employing  mechanics  in  our  frontier  villages,  or  building  ves- 
sels for  the  transportation  of  freight  on  the  upper  lakes.  These 
measures  nmy  be  well  in  themselves,  and  are  doubtless  useful ; 
but  let  us  not  flatter  ourselves  that  in  doing  these  things  we 
confer  any  essential  benefit  on  the  Indians.  The  Chocktaws 
and  Chickusaws  will  not  long  retain  such  a  knowledge  of  as- 
tronmny  and  surveying.,  as  would  be  useful  to  guide  their 
wanderings,  or  mete  out  their  possessions,  in  those  scorched 
and  sterile  wastes  to  which  it  is  our  fixed  intention  to  drive  them. 
The  giving  to  a  few  individuals  of  a  tribe,  an  education,  wliich, 
us  far  as  it  has  any  influence,  tends  directly  to  unfit  them  for 
the  course  of  life  they  are  destined  to  lead,  with  whatever  in- 
tention it  may  be  undertaken,  is  certainly  far  from  '  iiig  an 
act  of  kindness.  If,  while  we  give  the  rudiments  of  a;,  educa- 
tion to  a  portion  of  their  children,  our  selfish  j)olicy  is  thriis-ting 
back  into  a  state  of  more  complete  barbarism  the  whole  mass 
of  the  people,  among  whom  we  pretend  to  qualify  theuj  lor 
usefulness,  of  what  avail  are  our  exertions,  or  oin*  professions 
in  their  favour  ?  We  cannot  be  ignorant,  that  u»  depriving  the 
Indians  of  the  jneans  of  comfortable  subsistence,  we  take  from 
them  equally  the  power  and  the  inclination  to  cultivate  any  of 
the  branches  of  learning  commonly  taught  them  at  our  schools. 
Will  the  Indian  youth  who  returns  from  the  Mission  school, 
after  ten  or  fifteen  years  of  instruction,  be  likely  to  become  a 
better  hunter,  or  a  braver  warrior,  (ban  those  who  liave  remained 
at  home,  and  been  educated  in  the  discipline  of  his  tribe  ?  Will 
he  not  rather  find  himself  encunilwred  with  a  mass  of  learn- 
ing, necessarily  as  uncurrent,  and  as  little  valued  among  his 
rude  comi)anions,  as  would  be  a  parcel  of  lottery  tickets  or 
bank  notes  ]  On  this  subject,  as  on  many  others,  the  Indians 
are  (|ualified  to  make,  and  often  do  make,  extremely  just 
reflections.  To  say  that  they  consider  the  learning  of  the 
whites  of  no  value,  would  lie  to  misrepresent  theni.  On  the 
contrary,  they  speak  in  terms  of  (he  highest  admiration  of  some 
branches,  particularly  writing  and  reading,  which,  they  say, 
ena))les  us  to  know  what  is  done  at  a  distance,  to  recall  with 


r>^' 


'"-rr 


IG 


TANNER  S    NARR\TIVL. 


)! 


i  U 


#1 


i'i 


the  greatest  accuracy,  all  that  we  or  others  have  sait!,  in  past 
times.  6ut  of  these  things  tliey  say,  as  of  the  reUgion  of  the 
whites,  "  they  are  not  designed  for  us."  "  The  Great  Spirit 
has  given  to  you,  as  well  as  to  us,  tilings  suited  to  our  several 
conditions ;  He  may  have  licen  more  hountiful  to  you  than  to 
us ;  but  we  are  not  disposed  to  complain  of  our  allotment." 

In  relation  to  the  other  branch  of  this  |)art  of  our  subject, 
namely,  the  practical)ility  of  l)iuiefiting  the  Indians  by  our  in- 
structions, a  few  words  may  suffice.  More  than  two  hundred 
years  have  passed,  during  all  which  time  it  has  been  believed 
that  systematic  and  thorough  exertions  were  making  to  pro- 
mote the  civilization  and  conversion  of  the  Indians.  The  en 
tire  failure  of  all  these  attempts  ought  to  convince  us,  not  that 
the  Indians  are  irreclaimable,  but  that  we  ourselves,  while  we 
have  built  uj)  wilh  one  hand,  have  pulled  down  with  the  other. 
Our  professions  have  been  loud,  our  philanthropic  exertions 
may  have  been  great,  but  our  sellish  'cgard  to  our  own  interest 
and  convenience  has  been  greater,  and  to  this  we  ought  to  at- 
tribute the  steady  decluie,  the  rapid  deterioration  of  the  In- 
dians. We  may  be  told  of  their  const itutioiial  indolence,  their 
Asiatic  temperament,  destining  them  to  be  forever  stationary, 
or  retrogradent ;  but  while  remaining  monuments  and  vestiges, 
as  well  as  historical  records  of  imquestionable  authority,  assure 
us,  that  a  few  centuries  ago  they  were,  though  a  rude,  still  a 
great,  a  prosperous,  and  a  happy  people  ;  we  ought  not  to  for 
get  that  injustice  and  oppression  have  been  most  active  among 
the  causes  which  have  brought  them  down  to  their  present  de- 
ploral)le  state.  Their  reckless  indolence,  their  shameless 
profligacy,  their  total  self-abandonment,  have  been  the  neces- 
sary consetjuences  of  the  degradation  and  hopelessness  of  their 
condition.* 


*  "  Therp  arc  no  hcirgars  among  thcni,  nor  falherlcssc  cliildren  unprovided  for." 
Roger  Willmm's  Koy,  eh.  5. 

"  Obs.  They  are  as  full  of  Inisincssr,  and  as  impatient  of  hinderaner,  (in  their 
kind,)a»  any  merchant  in  Europe.  Many  of  them  naturally  princes,  or  else  indus- 
trious persons,  arc  rich;  and  the  pooro  amongst  them  will  say  they  want  nfw 


^m^m 


TANNKR.S    NAilRATiVE, 


17 


Bor.' 

khrir 
|duK- 


That  there  exists,  in  tlie  moral  or  physical  constitution  of  the 
Indians,  any  insuperable  obstacle  to  their  civilization,  no  one 
will  now  seriously  assert.  That  they  will  ever  be  generally 
civilized,  those  who  know  them  intimately,  and  who  have  ob- 
served the  prevaihng  tone  of  feeling  of  both  races  towards 
each  other,  will  consider  so  extremely  improbable,  ihat  they 
will  deem  it  scarce  worth  while  to  inquire  what  system  of  mea- 
sures would  be  best  calculated  to  effect  this  desirable  object. 

thincr."  Williams,  ch.  7.  "  Ohn.  The  women  of  the  family  will  commonly  rui  e  two 
or  three  heaps  [of  corn]  of  twelve,  lifteene,  or  twentie  Imsliells  a  heap,  whicli  they 
drie  in  round  broad  heaps ;  and  if  she  have  help  of  her  children  or  friends,  much 
more."  Ch.  16.  "  I  could  never  rliscerne  thr.t  exce.ss  of  scandalous  sins  amongst 
them  which  Europe  aboundeth  with.  Drunkennesse  and  gluttony  generally  they 
know  not  what  sins  they  lie.  And  although  they  have  not  so  much  to  restrainc  them 
(both  in  respect  of  knowledge  of  God  and  laws  of  men)  as  the  English  liave,  yet 
a  man  shall  never  hear  of  such  crimes  among  them,  of  robberies,  murthers,  adii! 
teries."  Ch.  iirZ.  Quotations  to  the  the  same  effect  might  be  adduced  from  nearly 
all  the  early  writers.  Yet  we  are  told  that  in  all  that  regards  their  moral  condition, 
the  Indians  have  been  gainers  by  their  intercourse  with  the  whites ! 

It  is  |)robably  within  the  recollection  of  many  persons  now  hving,  when  the  very 
considerable  quantities  of  corn  recjuired  for  the  fur  trade  in  the  country  about  Lake 
yuperior,  were  purchased  from  the  Indians,  by  whom  it  was  raised  at  a  place  called 
Kctckawice  Seebce,  or  Garden  river,  a  small  stream  falling  into  the  struit  between 
Lakes  Suiierior  and  Huron,  about  six  miles  below  the  Sauf  St.  INiarie.  "  'I'lui 
Indians  at  the  first  settlement  of  the  English,  performed  many  acts  of  kindnesu 
towards  them :  they  instructed  them  in  the  manner  of  [ilanting  and  ilressing  the 
Indian  corn,"  and  "  by  selling  them  corn  when  pinched  with  fauiiue,  they  relieved 
Iheir  distresses,  and  prevented  them  from  perishing  ui  a  strange  land,  and  luiculti- 
vated  wilderness."  'I\anihnWs  Hit  lory  of  Connecticut,  Vol.  I.  Ch.  3.  In  another 
place,  s|)eaking  of  a  famine  among  the  colonists,  he  says,  "  In  this  distressful  situo- 
fion  a  committee  was  sent  to  an  Indian  .settlement  calli  il  I'oronitoc^k,  where  th  'y 
purchusetl  such  quantities,  that  the  Indians  came  down  to  Windsor  and  Hartford 
with  fifty  canoes  at  one  time  laden  with  Indian  corn."  Vol.  I.  Ch.  (i.  The  In 
dians  on  Block  Island,  according  to  the  same  authority,  "  had  nlwut  two  hundred 
acres  of  corn."  This  the  English,  after  two  days  spent  on  the  Island  ''burning 
wigwams,"  and  "  staving  canoes,"  destroyed,  and  then  sailed  for  the  Pequot  coun- 
try, lb.  Ch.  5.  Charlevoix,  a  less  exceptionable  iuithority  than  most  of  the  early 
French  writers,  sayF,  that  in  an  incursion  into  the  country  of  the  Senecas,  the 
French  destroyed  four  hunilred  thousand  minots  [1,'2«M),0()()  l)usliels|  of  com. 
"They  also  killed  a  prodigious  numlw-r  of  swine,  which  caused  much  sicknes-s.  ' 
Hist,  dc  la  Nuurcltc  h'rana;  liv.  XI.  It  is  urmecessary  incite  passages,  hundreds  of 
which  might  be  add\iced  to  prove,  what  few,  except  the  reviewer  above  <iuote(J 
ever  considered  doubtful. 


?^il 


<<*f 


III 

I 


18 


tanner's  narrative. 


Of  what  advantage  could  any  degree  of  civilization  have  been 
to  those  unfortunate  Seminoles,  who  were  a  few  years  since 
removed  from  their  beautiful  and  fertile  lands  in  Florida,  to 
those  deep  and  almost  impassable  swamps  in  the  rear  of  Tam- 
pa Bay,  where  it  has  been  found  not  only  necessary  to  con- 
fine them  by  a  military  force,  but  to  subsist  them,  from  day  to 
day,  and  from  year  to  year,  by  regular  issues  of  provisions  ? 
Need  we  give  them  education,  that  they  may  be  the  better  able 
to  estimate  our  munificence  and  generosity,  in  suHering  them 
to  roam  at  large,  in  cypress  swamps,  in  sandy  deserts,  or 
wherever  else  we  may  think  the  soil  of  no  value  to  us  ? 

The  project  of  congregating  the  Indians,  from  the  extended 
portions  of  the  United  States,  in  some  place  not  only  toest  of 
the  Mississippi,  but  westward  of  the  arable  lands  of  Missouri 
and  Arkansaw,  in  those  burning  deserts  which  skirt  the  eastern 
base  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  is,  perhaps,  more  pregnant  with 
injustice  and  cruelty  to  these  people,  than  any  other.  Such  is 
the  inveterate  and  interminable  hostility  existing,  time  out  of 
mind,  between  the  people  of  different  stocks,  portions  of  wliich 
are  already  in  too  near  vicinity,  such  as  the  Dahcotah  and  the 
Ojibbeways,  the  Osages  and  Cherokees,  that  nothing  but  mu- 
tual destruction  could  be  the  consequence  of  crowding  them 
together  into  a  region  aheady  more  than  filled  with  warlike 
and  jealous  hunters.  The  region  to  which  Mr.  M'Koy,  in  his 
pamphlet,  proposes  to  remove  the  Indians,  would,  such  is  its 
naked  and  inhospitable  character,  soon  reduce  civilized  men 
who  should  be  confined  to  it,  to  barbarism  ;  nothing  but  inevita- 
ble destruction  could  there  await  a  congregation  of  fierce,  subtle, 
and  mutually  hostile  savages. 

Of  all  plans  hitherto  devised  to  benefit  the  Indians,  by  far 
the  best,  though  doubtless  attended  with  great  difficulty  in  the 
execution,  is,  to  let  them  alone.  Were  it  possible  to  leave  to 
them  the  small  remnant  they  still  hold  of  their  former  posses- 
sions, to  remove  from  them  all  the  poisoning  influences  of  the 
fur  trade  and  the  military  posts,  and  the  agencies  auxiliary  to 
it.  necessity  might  again  make  them  industrious.    Industry 


\. 


TANiNERS    NAHRATIVK. 


1«> 


thoroughly  le-establishcdj  would  bring  in  its  iiaiii  prosperitj , 
virtue,  and  happiness.  But  since  we  canirot  reasonably  hope 
<hat  this  plan  will  ever  be  adopted,  the  friends  of  humanity 
must  continue  to  wish  that  some  middle  course  may  be  devised, 
which  may,  in  a  measure,  palliate  the  misery  which  cannot  be 
removed,  and  retard  the  destruction  which  cannot  be  prevent- 
ed. The  first  labour  of  the  philanthropist,  who  would  exert 
himself  in  this  cause,  should  be  to  allay  or  suppress  that  exter- 
minating spirit  so  common  among  us,  which,  kept  alive  by  the 
exertions  of  unprincipled  land  jobbers,  and  worthless  squatters, 
is  now  incessantly  calling  for  the  removal  of  the  Indians  xoest 
of  the  Mississippi.  Many,  and  doubtless  some  of  those  who 
legislate,  may  consider  the  region  west  of  the  Mississippi,  as  a 
kind  of  fairy  land,  where  men  can  feed  on  moonbeams,  or,  at 
all  events,  that  the  Indians,  when  thoroughly  swept  into  that 
land  of  salt  mountains  and  horned  frogs,  will  be  too  remote  to 
give  us  any  more  trouble.  But  suppose  those  who  now  so  per- 
tinaciously urge  this  measure  completely  successful,  let  every 
Indian  be  removed  beyond  the  Mississippi,  how  soon  will  the 
phrase  be  changed,  to  west  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  '!  We 
may  send  them  into  the  sandy  wastes,  but  cannot  persuade 
them  to  remain  there  ;  they  will  soon  become  not  less  trouble- 
some to  the  settlers  in  the  countries  of  Red  River,  Whit« 
River,  and  the  Lower  Arkansaw,  than  they  are  now  to  tho, 
people  of  Georgia;  Alabama,  Missouri,  and  Illinois.  Is  it  ab 
solutely  necessary,  that  while  we  invite  to  our  shores,  and  to  a 
participation  in  all  the  advantages  of  our  boasted  institutions; 
the  dissatisfied  and  the  needy  of  all  foreign  coimtries,  not  stop- 
ping to  inquire  whether  their  own  crimes,  or  the  influence  of 
an  oppressive  government,  may  have  made  the  change  desira- 
ble for  them,  we  should,  at  the  same  time,  persist  in  the  de- 
termination to  root  out  the  last  remnants  of  a  race  who  w  ^re 
the  original  proprietors  of  the  soil,  many  of  whom  are  better 
qualified  to  become  useful  citizens  of  our  republic,  than  those 
foreigners  we  are  so  eager  to  naturalize  ?  It  is  certainly  by 
no  means  desirable  that  any  of  the  aboriginal  tribes  who  have 


'..  *.■»    *■  ■.      ■'K^ 


20 


TANNER  .-^    N  AJiRATi  \  ti. 


I   If 
'    I 


retained,  or  acquired,  or  who  shall  acquire  so  much  of  civihza- 
tion  as  to  be  able  to  increase  in  numbers,  and  to  gain  strengtli, 
surrounded  by  the  wliites,  sliould  be  sullered  to  estabUsh  in- 
dependent governments,   which  may,   in  time,  actjuire  such 
strength   as   to   be  highly  troublesome   to  their   neighbours. 
Could  tlie  project  of  colonization  be  carried  into  complete  efiect, 
the  measure,  leaving  out  of  consideration  its  daring  and  fla- 
grant injustice,  would  be  of  as  (juestionalile  \)ol\cy  as  our  una- 
vaihng  attempt  to  restore  to  Africa  the  descendants  of  her  en- 
slaved children.     It  is  believed  by  many,  that  national  as  well 
as  individual  crimes,  are  sure  to  be  visited,  sooner  or  later,  by 
just  and  merited  punishments.     Is  it  not  probable,  that  despite 
the  efforts  of  the  Colonization  Society,  the  African  race,  now 
so  deeply  rooted  and  so  widely  spread  among  us,  must  inevita- 
bly grow  to  such  a  magnitude  as  to  requite,  fourfold,  to  our 
descendants,  our  own  and  our  forefathers  crunes  against  the 
aborigines  ? 

The  past  history  and  tlie  present  condition  of  the  Indians, 
make  it  abundantly  manifest,  that,  if  any  thing  is  intended  on 
the  part  of  the  United  States,  except  their  speedy  and  utter 
extinction,  an  immediate  chaiige  of  measures  is  loudly  called 
for.  The  most  important  particulars  of  the  course  to  be  pur- 
sued should  be,  the  prevention,  as  far  as  possible,  of  the  evils 
resulting  from  competition ;  the  introduction  of  whiskey,  and 
other  existing  abuses  in  the  fur  trade  ;  the  encouragement  of 
agriculture  and  domestic  industry,  which  may  at  length  ren- 
der them  independent  of  that  trade.  Donations  of  horses,  cat- 
tle, tools,  and  farming  utensils,  handsome  clothes,  neat  and 
tasteful  ornaments,  bestowed  as  marks  of  honourable  distinction, 
and  rewards  for  successful  and  persevering  mdustry,  may,  by 
degrees,  overcome  the  habitual  indolence  and  contempt  of  la- 
bour, so  generally  met  with  among  the  Indians.  With  the  ef- 
forts for  the  promotion  of  industry,  the  cultivation  of  the  mind, 
not  in  one  out  of  ten  thousand,  as  at  present,  but  in  the  whole 
mass  of  the  children  ;  and  the  introduction  of  the  English  lan- 
guage should  keep  equal  pace.    No  eflbrt  should  be  spared  to 


TANNERS    NAHRATIVi:. 


21 


advance  either.  We  deem  it  important  that  they  shonld  not, 
only  learn  the  English  language,  but,  at  the  same  time,  lay 
aside  and  forget  their  own,  and  with  it  their  entire  system  of 
traditional  feelings  and  opinions  on  all  subjects,  Could  all  this 
be  effected  ;  could,  furthermore,  the  rights  and  privileges  of  citi- 
zenship be  held  out  as  a  reward  for  a  prescribed  course  of  con- 
duct, or  attach  as  a  right  to  the  possession  of  a  certain  amount 
of  property,  the  effect  would  doul)tless  be  a  great  and  rapid 
elevation  of  the  Indian  character.  By  a  system  of  measures 
of  this  kind,  a  portion  of  the  remnants  of  these  people  might 
probably  be  preserved,  by  V)ecoming  embodied  with  the  whites. 
As  separate  and  independent  tribes,  retaining  their  own  lan- 
guages, manners,  and  opinions,  it  is  probable  they  cannot  long 
continue  in  existence. 


..   I 


w 


11  >i 


1  i 


i  t 


TANNER'S  NARRATIVE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Itecollections  of  early  life— capture — ^journey  from  the  mouth  of  the  Miami  to 
Sa-gui-na— ceremonies  of  adoption  into  the  iiimiiy  of  my  foster  parents — harsh 
treatment — transferred  by  purchase  to  the  family  of  Net-no-kwa— removal  to 
Lake  Mchigan. 


The  earliest  event  of  my  life,  which  I  distinctly  remember,  is 
the  death  of  my  mother.  This  happened  when  I  was  two  years 
old,  and  many  of  the  attending  circumstances  made  so  deep  an 
impression,  that  they  are  still  fresh  in  my  memory,  I  cannot  re- 
collect the  name  of  the  settlement  at  which  we  lived,  but  I  have 
since  learned  it  was  on  the  Kentucky  river,  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  the  Ohio. 

My  father,  whose  name  was  John  Tanner,  was  an  emigrant 
from  Virginia,  and  had  been  a  clergyman.  He  lived  long  after 
I  was  taken  by  the  Indians,  having  died  only  three  months  after 
the  great  earthquake,  which  destroyed  a  part  of  New  Madrid,  and 
was  felt  throughout  the  country  on  the  Ohio,  [1811.] 

Soon  after  my  mother's  death,  my  father  removed  to  a  place 
called  Elk  Horn.  At  this  place  was  a  cavern — I  used  to  visit  it 
with  my  brother.  We  took  two  candles ;  one  we  lighted  on  enter- 
ing, and  went  on  till  it  was  burned  down ;  we  then  lighted  the 
other,  and  began  to  return,  and  we  would  reach  the  mouth  of  the 
cavern  before  it  was  quite  burned  out. 

This  settlement  at  Elk  Horn  was  occasionally  visited  by  hostile 
parties  of  Shawneese  Indians,  who  killed  some  white  people,  and 
sometimes  killed  or  drove  away  cattle  and  horses.  In  one  instance, 
my  uncle,  my  father's  brother,  went  with  a  few  men  at  night,  and 
fired  upon  a  camp  of  these  Indians  ;  he  killed  one,  whose  scalp 
he  brought  home;  all  the  rest  jumped  into  the  river  and  escaped. 


/■ 


UA 


tanner's  NARRATIVL'. 


'<  I 


:i' 


\ 


(i 


»    I 


In  the  course  of  our  residence  at  this  place,  an  event  occun-ed, 
to  the  influence  of  which  I  attributed  many  of  the  disasters  of  ray 
subsequent  life.  My  father,  when  about  to  start  one  morning  to 
a  village  at  some  distance,  gave,  as  it  appeared,  a  strict  charge  to 
my  sisters,  Agatha  and  Lucy,  to  send  me  to  school ;  but  this  they 
neglected  to  do  until  afternoon,  and  then,  as  the  weather  was 
rainy  and  unpleasant,  I  insisted  on  r<  inaining  at  home.  When 
my  father  returned  at  night,  and  found  that  I  had  been  at  home 
all  day,  he  sent  me  for  a  j)arcel  of  small  canes,  and  flogged  me 
much  more  severely  than  I  could  ;  'ppose  the  ort"ence  merited.  I 
was  displeased  with  my  sisters  for  attributing  all  the  blame  to 
me,  when  they  had  neglected  even  to  tell  me  to  go  to  school  in 
the  forenoon.  From  that  time,  my  father's  house  was  less  like 
home  to  me,  and  I  often  thought  and  said,  "  I  wish  I  could  go 
and  live  among  the  Indians." 

I  cannot  tell  how  long  we  remained  at  Elk  Horn  ;  when  we 
jnoved,  we  travelled  two  days  with  horses  and  wagons,  and  came 
to  the  Ohio,  where  my  father  bought  three  flat  boats ;  the  sides 
of  these  boats  had  bullet  holes  in  them,  and  there  was  blood  on 
them,  which  I  understood  was  that  of  peojile  who  had  been  killed 
by  the  Indians.  In  one  of  these  boats  we  put  the  horses  and 
cattle — in  another,  beds,  furniture,  and  other  property,  and  in  tho« 
third  were  some  negroes.  The  cattle  boat  ami  the  family  boat 
were  lashed  together;  the  third,  with  the  negroes,  followed  be- 
hind. We  descended  the  Ohio,  and  in  two  or  three  days  came  to 
Ciucinnati;  here  the  cattle  boat  sunk  in  the  middle  of  the  river. 
When  my  fatlur  saw  it  sinking,  he  jumped  on  board,  and  cut 
loose  all  the  cattle,  and  they  swam  ashore  on  the  Kentucky  side, 
and  were  saved.  Tlie  people  from  C'incinnati  came  out  in  boats 
to  assist  us,  but  father  told  them  the  cattle  were  all  safe. 

In  one  day  we  went  from  t'incinnuli  to  the  mouth  of  the  Big 
Miami,  op|)osite  wiiich  we  were  to  settle.  Here  was  some 
cleared  land,  and  one  or  two  log  cabins,  biU  they  had  been  de- 
serted on  account  of  the  Indians.  My  father  rebuilt  the  cabins, 
and  enclosed  them  with  a  strong  picket.  It  was  early  in  the 
spring  when  we  arrived  at  the  nuiuth  of  the  Big  Miami,  and  we 
were  soon  engaged  in  preparing  a  lield  to  plant  corn.  I  think 
it  was  not  more  than  ten  days  after  our  arrival,  when  my  lather 
told  us  in  the  morning,  (hat  I'rum  the  actions  of  th(;  hoi'scs,  be 


I 


^ 


tanner's    NAKRATIVi:. 


'•■'^Bf 


Big 

tome 
lie- 

1^)111!;, 
the 

II  \vc 

liink 
ilicr 


perceived  there  were  Indians  lurking  about  inliic  woods,  and  ho 
said  to  me,  "  John,  you  must  not  go  out  of  the  house  to  day.'* 
After  giving  strict  charge  to  my  step  mother  to  let  none  of  the 
little  children  go  out,  he  went  to  the  field,  with  the  negroes,  and 
my  elder  brother,  to  drop  corn. 

Three  little  children,  beside  mys-'elf,  were  left  in  the  house  with 
my  step  mother.  To  prevent  me  from  going  o\it,  my  step  mother 
required  me  to  take  c;ire  of  the  little  child,  tlien  uol  more  than  a 
few  months  old  ;  hut  as  I  soon  became  impatient  of  confinement, 
I  began  to  pinch  my  little  brother,  to  make  him  cry.  My  mother 
perceiving  his  uneasiness,  told  me  to  take  him  in  my  arms  and 
walk  about  the  h(nise ;  I  did  so,  but  coi\tii\ued  to  pinch  him. 
My  mother  at  length  took  him  from  me  to  give  him  suck.  I 
watched  my  opportimity,  and  escaped  into  the  yard  ;  thence 
through  a  small  door  in  the  large  aate  of  the  wall  into  the  open 
field.  There  was  a  walnut  tree  at  stune  distance  from  the  house, 
and  near  the  side  of  the  field,  where  I  had  been  in  the  habit  of 
finding  some  of  the  last  year's  nuts.  To  gain  this  tree  without 
being  seen  by  my  father,  and  those  in  (he  field,  I  had  to  use 
some  precaution.  I  remember  perfectly  well  liavina  scon  my 
-father,  as  f  skulked  towards  the  tree;  he  stood  in  ihe  middle  of 
the  field,  with  his  gun  in  his  hand,  to  watch  for  I?idiaiis,  while  the 
others  were  dropping  corn.  As  I  came  near  the  tree,  I  thought 
to  myself,  "  I  wish  I  could  see  these  Imlians."  I  h;id  parllv  fill- 
ed Avith  nuts  a  «traw  hat  which  I  wore,  when  I  heard  a  crackling 
noise  behind  me;  I  looked  round,  and  saw  the  Indians  ;  almost  at 
the  same  instant,  I  w;is  seized  by  both  hands,  and  dragged  off  be- 
twixt two.  One  of  1  hem  took  my  straw  bat,  emptied  the  nuts  on 
the  ground,  and  put  it  on  my  head.  The  [ndians  who  seized 
me  were  an  old  man  and  a  young  one ;  these  v\ ere,  as  I  learned 
subsequently,  Man'to-o-geezhik,  and  his  son  Kisli-knu-ko.*  Since 
I  retiirned  from  Red  River,  I  have  been  at  Deiroit  while  Kish- 
kau-kf*  was  in  prison  there;  I  have  al-io  been  in  Kentucky,  and 
have  learned  several  particulars  relative  to  my  rapture,  which 
were  unknown  to  me  at  the  time.     It  appears  that  the  wife  of 

'►  The  nnmr  of  this  man  Tiinnrr  pronnjincps  frifh-gau-c^o.  H«  lias  suW- 
qupnlly  I'*'*'"  w<*H  Itnown  in  Miclvican,  niul  other  |K)rlion»  of  th«  nortli-wrHlorn 
frontifr,  by  Iiih  iiunierouti  niunli-rs  and  dcpnslulioa".  He  died  in  {irison  ttt  De- 
iroit, M  lately  as  the  full  of  ih2r>. 


ii 


\\ 


/*'■''« 


•Ik 


..»•.-, =_lllL, 


I 


l^tf 


IANNER'S    SA.KRAT1VE. 


Manito-0-geezhik  had  recently  lost  by  death  her  youngest  sou — 
that  she  had  complained  to  her  husband,  that  unless  he  should 
bring  back  her  son,  she  could  not  live.  This  was  an  intimation  to 
bring  her  a  captive  whom  she  might  adopt  in  the  place  of  the 
•jon  she  had  lost.  Manito-o-geezhik,  associating  with  him  his 
son,  and  two  other  men  of  his  band,  living  at  Lake  Huron,  had 
proceeded  eastward  with  this  sole  design.  On  the  upper  part  of 
Lake  Erie,  tln^y  had  been  joined  by  three  other  young  men,  the 
relations  of  Manito-o-geezhik,  and  had  proceeded  on,  now  seven 
in  number,  to  the  settlements  on  the  Ohio.  They  had  arrived 
the  night  previous  to  my  capture  at  the  mouth  of  the  Big  Miami, 
had  crossed  the  Ohio,  and  concealed  themselves  within  sight  of 
my  father's  house.  Several  times  in  the  course  of  the  morning, 
old  Manito-o-geezhik  had  been  compelled  to  repress  the  ardour 
of  his  young  men,  who  becoming  impatient  at  seeing  no  opportu- 
nity to  steal  a  boy,  were  anxious  to  fire  upon  the  people  dropping 
corn  in  the  field.  It  must  have  been  about  noon  when  they  saw 
me  coming  from  flie  house  to  the  walnut  tree,  which  was  proba- 
bly very  near  the  place  where  one  or  more  of  them  were  con- 
cealed. 

It  was  but  a  few  minutes  after  I  left  the  house,  when  my  father, 
coming  from  the  (ield,  perceived  my  absence.  My  step  mother 
had  not  yet  noticed  tiiat  I  had  gone  oijt.  My  elder  brother  ran 
immediately  to  the  walnut  tree,  which  he  knew  I  was  fond  of 
visiting,  and  seeing  the  nuts  which  the  Indian  had  emptied  out 
of  my  hat,  he  immediately  understood  that  I  had  been  made 
captive.  Seaich  was  instantly  made  f(»r  me,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose. My  father's  distress,  wlien  he  found  I  was  indeed  taken 
away  by  the  Indians,  was,  I  am  told,  very  great. 

After  I  saw  myself  (irndy  si'ized  by  both  wrists  by  the  tW(> 
Indians,  I  was  not  conscious  of  any  thing  that  passed  for  a  con- 
siderable time.  I  must  have  fainted,  as  I  did  not  cry  out,  and  I 
can  remember  nothing  that  happened  to  me,  until  they  threw  me 
over  a  large  log,  which  nuisl  have  been  at  a  considerable  distance 
from  the  house.  The  old  man  I  did  not  now  s»'e  ;  I  was  dragged 
alonir  between  Kish-kau-ko  and  a  very  short  thick  man.  I  had 
probably  made  some  resistance,  or  done  something  to  irritate 
this  last,  for  he  took  me  a  little  to  one  side,  and  drawing  his  to- 
mahawk,  motioned  to  mc  to  look  up.    This  I  plainly  understood. 


i 


^»^ 


(1    of 
out 
made 


Uvo 
ron- 
and  I 
-w  me 
aancc 
•ufT^red 
I  liad 
rritatc 
U9  to- 
stood. 


tannf.r's  nahrativl. 


^7 


tiom  tlie  exjiression  of  his  face,  and  his  manner,  to  be  a  direction 
for  me  to  look  up  for  the  last  time,  as  he  was  about  to  kill  mo. 
I  did  as  he  directed,  but  Kish-kau-ko  caught  his  hand  as  the  toma- 
hawk was  descending,  and  prevented  him  from  burying  it  in  m\ 
brains.  Loud  talking  ensued  between  the  two.  Kish-kau-ko 
presently  raised  a  yell ;  the  old  man  and  the  four  otiiers  answered 
it  by  a  similar  yell,  and  came  running  up.  I  have  since  under- 
stood that  Kish-kau-ko  complained  to  his  father,  that  the  short 
man  had  made  an  attempt  to  kill  his  little  brother,  as  he  called 
me.  The  old  chicif,  after  reproving  him,  took  me  by  one  hand, 
and  Kish-kau-ko  by  tlic  other,  and  dragged  me  betwixt  them ; 
the  man  who  had  threatened  to  kill  me,  and  who  was  now  an 
object  of  terror,  being  kept  at  some  distance.  I  could  perceive, 
as  I  retarded  them  somewhat  in  their  retreat,  that  they  were  ap- 
prehensive of  being  overtaken ;  some  of  them  were  always  at 
some  distance  from  us. 

It  was  about  one  mile  from  my  father's  house  to  the  place 
where  tiiey  threw  me  into  a  hickory  bark  canoe,  which  was  con- 
cealed under  the  bushes,  on  the  bank  of  the  river.  Into  this  thej 
all  seven  jumped,  and  immediately  crossed  the  Ohio,  landing  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Big  Miami,  and  on  the  south  side  of  that  river. 
Here  they  abandoned  their  canoe,  and  stuck  their  paddles  in  the 
ground,  so  that  they  could  be  seen  from  the  river.  At  a  little 
distance  in  the  woods,  they  had  some  blankets  and  provisions  con- 
cealed ;  they  offered  me  some  dry  venison  and  bear's  grease,  but 
I  could  not  eat.  My  father's  house  was  plainly  to  be  seen  from 
the  place  where  we  stood ;  they  pointed  at  it,  looked  at  me,  and 
laughed,  but  I  have  never  known  what  they  said. 

After  they  had  eaten  a  little,  they  began  to  ascend  the  Miami, 
dragging  me  along  as  before.  The  shoes  I  had  on  when  at  home, 
they  tcok  oil",  as  they  seemed  lo  think  I  could  run  better  without 
them.  Although  I  perceived  I  was  closely  watched,  all  hope  of 
escape  did  not  immedialt  K  forsake  me.  As  they  hurried  mc 
along,  I  endeavoured,  withoii!  their  knowledge,  to  take  notice  of 
such  objects  as  would  serve  as  Inudmaiks  on  my  way  back.  I 
fried  also,  where  I  passed  long  grass,  or  soft  ground,  to  leave  my 
tracks.  I  hoped  to  be  able  lo  escape  after  they  should  have  fallen 
asleep  at  niglit.  When  night  came,  they  lay  down,  placing  me  be- 
tween the  old  man  and  Kish-kftU'ko,  so  close  together,  that  thp 


I 


,y  M 


'/' 


•Jl? 


XANNER  S    NARRATIVE. 


\ 


t 

I 


dame  blankfi  covered  all  three.  I  was  so  fatigued  that  I  fell  asleep 
immediately,  and  did  not  wake  until  sunrise  next,  morning,  when 
the  Indians  were  up  and  roadj'  to  proceed  on  their  journey. 
Thus  we  journeyed  for  about  four  days,  the  Indians  hurrying  me 
on,  and  I  continuing  to  hope  that  I  might  escape,  but  still  every 
night  completely  overpowered  by  sleep.  As  my  feet  were  bare, 
they  were  often  wounded,  and  at  length  much  swollen.  The  old 
man  perceiving  my  situation,  examined  my  feet  one  day,  and  after 
removing  a  great  many  tlujrns  and  splinters  from  them,  gave  me 
a  pair  of  moccasins,  which  afforded  me  some  relief.  Most  com- 
monly, I  travelled  between  the  old  man  and  Kish-kau-ko,  and 
they  often  made  me  run  until  my  strength  was  quite  exhausted. 
For  several  days  I  could  eat  little  or  nothing.  It  was,  I  think, 
four  days  after  we  left  the  Ohio,  that  we  came  to  a  considerable 
river,  running,  as  I  suppose,  into  the  Miami.  This  river  was 
wide,  and  so  deep,  that  I  could  not  wade  across  it;  the  old  man 
took  me  on  his  shoulders  and  carried  me  over ;  the  water  was 
nearly  up  to  his  arm  pits.  As  he  carried  me  across,  I  thought  I 
should  never  be  able  to  pass  this  river  alone,  and  gave  over  all 
hope  of  immediate  escape.  WIicu  he  put  me  down  on  the  other 
side,  I  immediately  ran  up  the  bank,  and  a  short  distance  into 
the  woods,  when  a  turkey  flew  up  a  few  steps  before  me.  The 
uest  she  had  left  contained  a  number  of  eggs ;  these  I  put  in  the 
bosom  of  my  shirt,  and  returned  towards  the  river.  When  the 
Indians  saw  me  they  laughed,  and  immediately  took  the  eggt; 
from  me,  and  kindling  a  fire,  put  them  in  a  small  kettle  to  boil. 
I  was  then  very  hungry,  and  as  I  sat  watching  the  kettle,  I  saw 
the  old  man  come  running  from  the  direction  of  the  ford  where 
we  had  crossed  ;  he  immediately  caught  up  the  kettle,  threw  the 
eggs  and  the  water  on  the  tire,  at  the  same  time  saying  something 
in  a  hurried  and  low  tone  to  the  yo>mg  men.  I  inferred  we  were 
pursued,  and  have  since  understood  that  such  was  tlie  case;  it  is 
probable^some  of  my  friends  were  at  that  time  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  river  searching  for  me.  The  Indians  hastily  gathered 
up  the  eggs  and  dispersed  themselves  in  the  woods,  two  of  them 
still  urging  ine  forward  to  the  utmost  of  my  strength. 

It  was  a  day  or  two  after  this  that  we  met  a  party  of  twenty  or 
thirty  Indians,  on  their  way  towards  the  settlements.  Old  Manito- 
O'geezhik  had  much  to  say  to  them ;  subscipieutly  I  learned  that 


TANNUR  a    NARKATIVL. 


■4.U 


it  is 
)fite 
!rcd 
ncm 


they  were  a  war  party  of  Siiawnccse ;  that  they  received  infor- 
mation from  our  party,  of  the  whites  who  were  in  pursuit  of  ua 
about  the  forks  of  the  Miami ;  that  they  went  in  pursuit  of  them, 
and  that  a  severe  skirmish  happened  between  them,  in  which 
numbers  were  killed  on  both  sides. 

Our  journey  through  the  woods  was  tedious  and  painful  :  it 
might  have  been  ten  days  after  we  met  the  war  party,  when  we 
arrived  at  the  Maumee  river.  As  soon  as  we  came  near  the  river, 
tlie  Indians  were  suddenly  scattered  about  tlie  woods  examining 
the  trees,  yelling  and  answering  each  other.  They  soon  selected 
a  hickory  tree,  which  was  cut  down,  and  the  bark  stripped  off,  to 
make  a  canoe.  In  this  canoe  we  all  embarked,  and  descended 
till  we  came  to  a  large  Shawnee  village,  at  the  mouth  of  a  river 
which  enters  the  Maumee.  As  we  were  landing  in  this  village, 
great  numbersof  the  Indians  came  about  us,  and  one  young  woman 
came  crying  directly  towards  me,  and  struck  me  on  the  head. 
Some  of  her  friends  had  been  killed  by  the  whites.  Many  of 
these  Shawneese  showed  a  disj)osition  to  kill  me,  but  Kish-kau- 
ko  ami  the  old  man  interposed,  and  prevented  them.  I  could  per- 
ceive that  I  was  often  the  subject  of  conversation,  but  could  not 
as  yet  understand  what  was  said.  Old  Munilo-o-geezhik  could 
speak  a  few  words  of  EngUsh,  which  he  used  occasionally,  to  di- 
rect me  to  bring  water,  make  a  fire,  or  perform  other  tasks,  which 
he  now  began  to  require  of  me.  We  remained  two  days  at  th( 
Shawnee  village,  and  then  proceeded  on  our  join*ney  in  the  ca- 
noe. It  was  not  very  far  from  the  village  that  wo  came  tu  a  tra- 
ding house,  where  were  three  or  four  men  who  could  speak 
English ;  they  talked  much  with  me,  and  said  they  wished  to 
have  purcnased  mv  from  the  Indians,  that  I  might  return  to  my 
friends;  but  as  the  old  man  would  not  consent  to  pail  v. ith  me, 
the  traders  told  me  I  must  be  content  to  go  with  the  Ind.ans,  and 
to  become  the  old  man's  son,  in  place  itf  one  he  had  lost,  promi- 
sing at  the  same  time  that  after  ten  days  llu-y  would  come  to  the 
villiige  and  release  me.  They  treated  me  kindly  while  we  staid, 
and  gave  ine  plenty  to  eat,  which  the  Indians  had  neglected  to 
do.  When  I  fo\ind  I  was  compelled  to  leave  this  house  with  the 
Indians,  I  began  to  cry,  for  the  lirst  tinie  since  I  had  been  taken. 
I  consoled  myself,  however,  with  their  promise  that  in  ten  days 
they  would  come  for  me.    Soon  after  leaving  this  trading  house, 


w 


1 1 


30 


tanner's  narrative. 


l!      V 


-^  ; 


we  came  to  the  lake ;  we  did  not  stop  at  night  to  encamp,  but 
soon  after  dark  the  Indians  raised  a  yell,  which  was  answered 
from  some  lights  on  shore,  and  presently  a  canoe  came  off  to  us, 
in  wliich  three  of  our  party  left  us.  I  have  little  recollection  of 
any  thing  that  passed  from  this  time  until  we  arrived  at  Detroit. 
At  tirst  we  paddled  up  in  the  middle  of  the  river  until  we  came 
opposite  the  < nitre  of  the  town  ;  then  we  ran  in  near  the  shore, 
where  I  saw  a  white  woman,  with  whom  the  Indians  held  a  little 
conversation,  but  I  could  not  understand  what  was  said.  I  also 
saw  several  white  men  standing  and  walking  on  shore,  and  heard 
them  talk,  but  could  noHmdorstaud  them  ;  it  is  likely  they  spoke 
French.  After  talking  a  few  minutes  with  the  woman,  the  In- 
dians pushed  otr,  and  ran  up  a  good  distance  above  the  town. 

It  was  about  the  middle  of  the  day  when  we  landed  in  the 
woods,  and  drew  up  the  canoe.  They  presently  found  a  large 
hollow  log,  open  at  one  end,  into  w  hich  they  put  their  blankets, 
their  little  kettle,  and  some  other  articles ;  they  then  made  me 
crawl  into  it,  after  which  they  closed  up  the  end  at  which  I  had 
entered.  I  heard  them  for  a  few  minutes  on  the  outside,  then  all 
was  still,  and  remained  so  for  a  long  time.  If  I  had  not  long 
^ince  relinciuished  all  hope  of  making  my  escape,  I  soon  found  it 
would  be  in  vain  f(n-  me  to  attempt  to  release  myself  from  my 
confinement.  After  remaining  many  hours  in  this  situation,  I 
heard  them  remo  zing  the  logs  with  which  they  had  fastened  me 
in,  and  on  coming  out,  although  it  was  very  late  in  the  night,  or 
probably  near  morning,  I  could  perceive  that  they  had  brought 
three  horses.  One  of  these  was  a  large  iron-gray  mare,  the  others 
were  two  small  bay  horses.  On  one  of  these  they  placed  me,  on 
the  others  their  baggage,  and  sometiuies  one,  sometimes  another 
of  the  Indians  riding,  we  travelled  rapidly,  and  in  about  three 
days  reached  Sau-ge-nouir,*  the  village  to  which  old  Manito- 
o-geezhik  belonged.  'I'll is  village  or  settlement  consisted  of  se- 
veral scattered  ho\ises.  Two  of  the  Indians  left  us  soon  after  wc 
entered  it;  Kish-kau-koand  his  father  oidy  remained,  and  instead 
of  proceeding  innnediately  home,  they  left  their  horses  and  bor- 
rowed a  canoe,  in  which  we  at  last  arrived  at  the  old  man's  house. 
This  was  a  hut  or  cabin  built  of  logs,  like  some  of  those  in 

♦  Sa-gMi-nct.  Th'-  wonl  San-i^e-nonc^,  appears  to  mean,  "the  town  of  the  Sail 


Ill 


•lANNER'S    NAIlRATIVt, 


31 


uuto- 

if  sc- 

T  WO 

bor- 

OU9C. 

se  in 


Kentucky.  As  soon  as  we  landed,  the  old  vvomun  came  down  to 
us  to  the  shore,  and  after  Manito-o-gcezhik  had  said  a  few  words 
to  her,  she  commenced  crying,  at  the  same  time  hugging  and  kiss- 
ing me,  and  thus  she  led  me  to  the  house.  Next  day  thoy  took 
me  to  the  place  where  the  old  woman's  son  had  l)een  buried.  The 
grave  was  enclosed  with  pickets,  in  the  manner  of  the  Indians, 
and  on  each  side  of  it  was  a  sinootli  open  place.  Here  tlicy  all 
took  their  seats ;  the  family  and  friends  of  Manito-o-geezliik  on 
the  one  side,  and  strangers  on  the  other.  The  friends  of  the  fa- 
mily had  come  provided  with  presents ;  mukkuks  of  sugar,  sucks 
of  corn,  beads,  strouding,  tobacco,  and  the  like.  They  had  not  been 
long  assembled,  when  my  party  began  to  dance,  dragging  mc 
with  them  about  the  grave.  Their  dance  was  lively  and  cheer- 
ful, after  the  manner  of  the  scalp  dance.  From  time  to  time  as 
they  danced,  they  presented  ine  something  of  the  articles  they 
had  brought,  but  as  I  came  round  in  the  dancing  to  the  party  on 
the  oj)posite  side  of  the  grave,  whatever  they  had  given  me  was 
snatched  from  me :  thus  they  continued  great  part  of  the  day, 
until  the  presents  were  exhausted,when  tliey  returned  home. 

It  must  have  been  early  in  the  spring  when  wc  arrived  at  Sau- 
ge-nong,  for  I  can  remember  that  at  this  time  the  leaves  were 
small,  and  the  Indians  were  about  planting  their  corn.  They 
ma'aged  to  make  me  assist  at  their  labours,  partly  bv  signs,  and 
partly  by  the  few  words  of  English  old  Munito-o-geezhik  could 
speak.  After  planting,  they  all  left  the  village,  and  went  out  to 
hunt  and  dry  meat.  When  they  came  to  their  hunting  grounds, 
ihey  chose  a  place  where  many  deer  resorted,  and  here  they 
besran  to  build  a  long  screen  like  a  fence ;  this  they  made  of 
green  boughs  aiul  small  trees.  When  they  had  built  a  part  of 
it,  they  showed  me  how  to  remove  the  leaves  and  dry  brush  from 
lliat  side  of  it  to  which  the  Indians  were  to  come  to  shoot  the 
deer.  In  this  labour  I  was  sometimes  assisted  by  the  stjuaws  and 
children,  but  at  other  «imes  I  was  \>  t  alone.  It  n«)w  began  to 
be  warm  weather,  and  it  happened  mie  day  that  having  been  left 
alone,  as  I  was  tired  and  (hirsty,  I  fell  asleep.  I  cannot  tell  how 
long  I  slept,  but  when  I  began  to  awake,  I  thought  I  heard  some 
one  crying  a  great  wav  off.  Then  I  trie<l  to  raise  up  my  head, 
but  cnid<l  not.  Being  now  more  awake,  I  saw  my  Indian  mother 
and  sister  stauUing  by  mu,  aud  perceived  that  my  face  and  head 


) 


32 


tanner's  narrativk. 


■  ■] 


I*'    i 


!!;, 


k 


M 


were  wet.  The  old  woman  and  her  daughter  were  crying  bit- 
terly, but  it  was  some  time  before  I  perceived  that  my  head  waf^ 
badly  cut  and  bruised.  It  appears  that  after  I  had  fallen  asleep, 
Manito-o-geezhik,  passing  that  way,  had  perceived  me,  had  toma- 
hawked me,  and  thrown  me  in  the  bushes;  and  that  when  he 
came  to  liis  camp  he  had  said  to  his  wife,  "  old  woman,  the  boy  I 
brought  you  is  good  for  nothing ;  I  have  killed  him,  ind  you  will 
find  him  in  such  a  place."  The  old  woman  and  her  daughter 
having  found  me,  discovered  still  some  signs  of  life,  and  had  stood 
over  me  a  long  time,  crying,  aiul  pouring  cohl  water  on  my  head, 
when  I  waked.  In  a  few  days  I  recovered  in  some  measure  from 
this  hurt,  and  was  again  set  to  work  at  the  screen,  but  I  was  more 
careful  not  to  fall  asleep ;  I  endeavoured  to  assist  them  at  their 
labours,  and  to  comply  in  all  instances  with  their  directions,  but 
I  was  notwithstanding  treated  with  great  harshness,  particularly 
by  the  old  man,  and  his  two  sons  She-mung  and  Kwo-tash-c. 
While  we  remained  at  the  hunting  camp,  one  of  them  put  a  bridle 
in  my  hand,  and  pointing  in  a  certain  direction,  motioned  me  to 
go.  I  went  accordingly,  supposing  he  wished  me  to  bring  a  horse; 
I  went  and  caught  the  first  I  could  find,  and  in  this  way  I  learned 
to  discharge  such  services  as  they  required  of  me. 

When  we  returned  from  huixting,  I  carried  on  my  back  a  large 
pack  of  dried  meat  all  the  way  to  the  village ;  but  though  I  was 
almost  starved,  I  dared  not  touch  a  morsel  of  it.  My  Indian 
mother,  who  seemed  to  have  some  compassion  for  me,  would 
sometimes  steal  a  little  food,  and  hide  it  for  me  until  the  old  man 
was  gone  away,  and  then  give  it  me.  After  we  returned  to  the; 
village,  the  young  men,  wlumever  the  weather  was  pleasant,  were 
engaged  in  sj)earing  fish,  and  they  used  to  take  me  to  steer  the 
canoe.  As  I  did  not  know  how  to  do  this  very  well,  they  com- 
monly turned  upon  me,  beat  me,  anil  t)ften  knocked  me  down  with 
the  pole  of  the  spear.  By  one  or  the  other  of  them  I  was  beaten 
almost  every  day.  Other  Indians,  not  of  our  family,  would  some- 
times seem  to  pity  me,  and  when  they  could  without  being  ob- 
served by  the  old  man,  they  would  sometimes  give  me  food,  and 
take  notice  of  me. 

After  the  corn  was  gathered  in  the  fall,  and  disposed  of  in  the 
Sun-je-gwun-nun,  or  Ca-ches,  where  they  liide  it  for  the  winter, 
<hey  went  to  hunt  on  the  Sau-ge-nong  river.     I  was  here,  as  J 


had 


% 


1-     } 


Wpsr 


lA.\MiRsi    NAKKAl'lM, 


33 


In  the 

Inter, 
a><  f 


had  alivays  been  when  among  them,  much  distressed  with  him- 
As  I  was  often  witli  them  in  the  woods,  I  saw  them  eatina' 


Cfer 


something,  and  I  endeavoured  to  discover  what  it  was,  but  tb 
carefully  concealed  it  from  me.  It  was  some  time  before  I  acci- 
dentally found  some  beach-nuts,  and  though  I  knew  not  what 
they  were,  I  was  tempted  to  taste  them,  and  finding  them  very 
good,  I  showed  them  to  the  Indians,  when  they  laughed,  and  let 
)ne  know  these  were  what  they  had  all  along  been  eating.  After 
the  snow  had  fallen,  I  was  compelled  to  follow  the  hunters,  and 
often-times  to  drag  home  to  the  lodge  a  Avhole  deer,  though  it 
was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  I  could  do  so. 

At  night  I  had  always  to  lie  between  the  fire  and  the  door  of 
the  lodge,  and  when  any  one  passed  out  or  came  in,  they  com- 
monly gave  me  a  kick;  and  whenever  they  went  to  drink  they 
made  a  practice  to  throw  some  water  on  me.  The  old  man  con- 
stantly treated  me  with  much  cruelty,  but  his  ill  humour  showed 
itself  more  on  some  occasions  than  others.  One  morning,  he  got 
up,  put  on  his  moccasins,  and  went  out;  but  presently  returning, 
he  caught  me  by  the  hair  of  my  head,  dragged  me  out,  rubbed  my 
face  for  a  long  time  in  a  mass  of  recent  excrement,  as  one  would 
do  the  nose  of  a  cat,  then  tossed  me  by  the  hair  into  a  snow  bank. 
After  this  I  was  afraid  to  go  into  the  lodge ;  but  at  length  my 
inother  came  out  and  gave  me  some  water  to  wash.  We  were 
)iow  about  to  move  our  camp,  and  I  was  as  usual  made  to  carry 
a  large  pack ;  but  as  I  had  not  been  able  to  wash  my  face  clean, 
when  I  came  among  other  Indians  they  perceived  the  smell,  and 
asked  me  the  cause.  By  the  aid  of  signs,  and  some  few  words  I 
I'ould  now  speak,  I  made  them  comprehend  how  I  had  been 
treated.  Some  of  them  appeared  to  pity  me,  assisted  me  to  w^asli 
myself,  and  gave  me  something  to  eat.* 

*  Tanner  has  much  of  the  Indian  habit  of  concealing  emotion ;  but  when  ho 
related  the  almve  to  me,  the  glimmering  of  his  eye,  and  a  convulsive  movemcn', 
of  his  U|)|)er  lip,  lietrayed  sufliciently,  that  he  is  not  without  the  enduring  thirst 
tor  revenge  which  Ijelongs  to  the  people  among  whom  he  has  s|ient  his  life.  "As 
HOon,"said  he,  in  connexion  with  this  anecdote,  "as  I  landed  in  Detroit  on  my  re- 
turn from  Red  River,  and  found  a  man  who  could  speak  with  me,  I  said  '  whero 
is  Kish-kau-koT  'He  is  in  prison.'  '  Where  is  Manifo-o-gee/liik,  his  father  .'" 
'Dead  two  montlii*  since.'  'It  is  well  he  is  dead.' "  Intimating  that  though  mure 
than  thirty  years  had  elapsed,  he  intended  now  to  have  avenged  himself  for  the 
xpjurv  done  him  when  a  Ixiy  not  eleven  yean*  of  age.— -Ef- 


\ 


$^ 


^ 


■''k 

^4..^ 


^.T  ■'..»— JilMJ^.M  1.1      -, , 


\r 


]i 


(r  i 

f  '■ 

h 

h   V 


34 


•lANNEK  S    NARRATIVK, 


\>  I    ■     I 


,fr) 


irr 


Often  wlien  the  old  man  would  begin  to  boat  mo,  my  mothei , 
who  generally  treated  mc  with  kindness,  wo\dd  throw  her  arms 
abont  me,  and  he  would  beat  us  both  together.  Towards  the 
end  of  winter,  we  moved  again  to  tJie  sugar  grounds.  At  this 
lime,  Kisli-kau-ko,  who  was  a  young  man  of  about  wenly  years 
of  age,  joined  with  him  four  other  young  men,  anu  went  on  a 
war-party,  Tiie  old  man,  also,  as  soon  as  the  sugar  was  finish- 
ed, returned  to  the  village,  collected  a  few  men,  an('  made  his 
preparations  to  start.  I  had  now  been  a  year  among  them,  and 
could  understand  a  little  of  their  language.  The  old  man,  when 
about  to  start,  said  to  me,  "  now  I  am  going  to  kill  your  father 
and  your  brother,  and  all  your  relations."  Kish-kau-ko  returned 
iirst,  but  was  badly  wounded.  He  said  he  had  been  with  his 
party  to  the  Ohio  river ;  tliat  they  had,  after  watching  for  somi; 
time,  fired  upon  a  small  boat  that  was  going  dow  n,  and  killed 
one  man,  the  rest  jumping  into  the  water.  He  [Kish-kau-ko] 
had  wounded  himself  in  his  thigh  with  his  own  spear,  as  he  was 
pursuing  them.  They  brought  home  the  scalp  of  the  man  they 
had  killed. 

Old  Manito-o-geezhik  retui-ned  a  few  days  afteiwards,  bringing 
an  old  white  hat,  which  I  k.iew,  from  a  mark  in  the  crown,  t(» 
be  that  of  my  brother.  Tie  said  he  had  killed  all  my  father's 
family,  the  negroes,  and  the  horses,  and  had  brought  mc  my 
brother's  hat,  that  I  might  see  he  spoke  the  truth.  I  now  be- 
lieved that  my  friends  had  all  been  cut  oil",  and  was,  on  that  ac- 
count, tlie  less  anxious  to  return.  This,  it  appears,  had  been 
precisely  the  object  the  old  man  a  ished  to  accomplish,  by  tell- 
ing me  the  story,  of  which  but  a  small  part  was  true.  When 
I  came  to  see  Kish-kau-ko,  after  I  returned  from  Red  River,  I 
asked  him  immediately,  "  Is  it  true,  that  your  father  has  kill- 
ed all  my  relations  ?"  He  told  mc  it  was  not ;  that  Manito- 
o-geezhik,  the  year  after  I  was  taken,  at  the  same  season  of  the 
year,  returned  to  the  same  field  where  he  hac'  found  me ;  that, 
ns  on  the  preceding  year,  he  had  watched  my  father  and  his 
people  planting  corn,  from  morning  till  noon ;  that  then  the) 
all  went  into  the  house,  except  my  brother,  who  was  then  nine- 
teen years  of  age  :  he  remained  ploughing  with  a  span  of  horses, 
having  the  lines  about  his  neck,  when  the  Indians  rushed  upon 
him;  the  horses  stm'ted  to  run;  my  brother  wa?  entangled  in 


;l  ., 


I'ANNEU'.S    NARHATlVf.. 


m 


my 

be- 

ac- 

becH 


r,  I 

kill- 

inito- 

the 

that, 

his 

the) 


♦fic  lines,  and  thrown  down,  when  the  Indians  caught  hiiii.  Tlko 
)iorses  they  killed  with  their  bows  and  arrows,  and  took  mj' 
brother  away  into  tlie  woods.  They  crossed  tlie  Ohio  before 
night,  and  had  proceeded  a  good  distance  in  their  M'ay  op  the 
Miami.  At  night  they  left  my  brother  securely  bound,  as  tliev 
thought,  to  a  tree.  His  hands  and  arms  were  tied  behind  him, 
and  there  were  cords  around  his  breast  and  neck ;  but  having 
bitten  oflsome  of  the  cords,  he  was  able  to  get  a  pen-knife  that  was 
in  his  pocket,  with  whicli  he  cut  himself  loose,  and  immediately 
run  towards  the  Ohio,  at  which  he  arrived,  and  which  he  crossed 
by  swimming,  and  reached  his  father's  house  about  sunrise  in 
the  morning.  The  Indians  were  roused  by  the  noise  he  made, 
and  pursued  him  into  the  wo  idc ;  but  as  the  night  was  very 
dark,  they  were  not  able  to  overtake  him.  His  hat  had  been 
left  at  the  camp,  and  this  they  brought,  to  make  me  believe  they 
had  killed  him.  Thus  I  remai-.ied  for  two  years  in  this  family, 
and  gradually  came  to  have  less  and  less  hope  of  escape,  though 
I  did  not  forget  what  the  English  traders  on  the  Mauraee  had 
said,  and  I  wished  they  might  reniemlier  and  come  for  mc. 
The  men  were  often  drunk,  and  whenever  they  were  so,  they 
sought  to  kill  me.  In  these  cases,  I  learned  to  run  and  hide  my- 
self in  the  woods,  and  I  dared  not  return  before  their  drunken 
frolick  was  over.  During  the  two  years  that  I  remained  at  Sau- 
ge-nong,  I  was  constantly  suftering  from  hunger ;  and  though 
strangers,  or  those  not  belonging  to  the  family,  sometimes  fed 
me,  I  had  never  t-nough  to  eat.  The  old  woman  they  called 
JNe-keek-wos-ke-cheem  e-kwa — "  the  Otter  woman,"  the  otter  be- 
ing her  totem — treated  me  with  kindness,  as  did  her  daughters, 
as  well  as  Rish-kau-ko  and  Be-nais-sa,  the  bird,  the  youngest  son, 
of  about  my  own  age.  Kish-kau-ko  and  his  father,  and  the  two 
brothers,  Kwo-ta-she  and  She-mung,  were  blood-thirsty  anil 
cruel,  and  those  who  remain  of  this  family,  continue,  to  this  time, 
troublesome  to  the  whites.  Be-nais-sa,  who  came  to  see  mc 
when  I  was  at  Detroit,  and  who  always  treated  me  kindly,  was  a 
lietter  man,  but  he  is  since  dead.  While  I  remained  with  them 
at  Sau-ge-nong,  I  saw  white  men  but  once.  Then  a  small  boat 
jtassed,  and  the  Indians  took  me  out  to  it  in  a  canoe,  rightly  sup- 
posing that  my  wretched  appearance  would  excite  the  compas- 
sion of  the  traders,  or  whatever  white  men  thcv  were.     These 


;i: « 


i 


•»i  ■ .» • 


:<(} 


lA.NNKRh    NARUAHVJ,. 


1    \ 


\- 


i'm 


gave  inc  bread,  apples,  and  other  presents,  all  wliicli,  except  one 
apple,  the  Indians  took  from  me.  By  this  family  I  was  named 
Shaw-shaw-wa  ne-l)a-se,  (the  Falcon.)  which  name  I  retained 
while  I  remained  amoni^  the  fndians. 

I  had  been  about  two  years  at  Sau-ge-nong,  when  a  great  coun- 
cil was  called  by  the  British  agents  at  Mackinac.  This  coun- 
cil was  attended  l)y  the  Sioux,  the  Winnebagoes,  the  Meno- 
monees,  and  many  remote  tribes,  as  well  us  by  the  Ojibbeways, 
Ottawwaws,  &c.  When  old  Manito-o-geezhik  returned  from 
this  council,  I  soon  learned  that  he  had  met  there  his  kinswo- 
man, Net-no-kwa,  who,  notwithstanding  her  sex,  was  then  re- 
garded as  principal  chief  of  the  Ottawwaws.  This  woman  had 
lost  her  son,  of  about  my  age,  by  death ;  and  having  heard  of 
me,  she  wished  to  purchase  me  to  supply  his  place.  My  old 
Indian  mother,  the  Otter  woman,  when  she  heard  of  this,  prci- 
tested  vehemently  against  it.  I  heard  her  say,  "  My  son  has 
been  dead  once,  and  has  been  restored  to  me ;  I  cannot  lose 
bim  again."  But  these  remonstrances  had  little  influence,  when 
Net-no-kwa  arrived  with  considerable  whiskey,  and  other  pre- 
sents. She  brought  to  the  lodge  first  a  ten  gallon  keg  of  whip- 
key,  blankets,  tobacco,  and  other  articles  of  great  value.  She 
was  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  dispositions  of  those  with 
whom  she  had  to  negotiate.  Objections  were  made  to  the  ex- 
change until  the  contents  of  the  keg  had  circulated  for  some 
time;  then  an  additional  keg,  and  a  few  more  presents,  com- 
pleted the  bargain,  and  I  was  transferred  to  Net-no-kwa.  This 
woman,  who  was  then  advanced  in  years,  was  of  a  more  pleasing- 
aspect  than  my  former  mother.  She  took  me  by  the  hand,  after 
she  had  completed  the  negotiation  with  my  former  possessors, 
and  led  me  to  her  own  lodge,  which  stood  near.  Here  I  soon 
found  I  was  to  be  treated  more  indulgently  than  I  had  been. 
She  gave  me  plenty  of  food,  put  good  clothes  upon  me,  and  told 
me  to  go  and  play  with  her  own  sons.  We  remained  but  a  short 
lime  at  Sau'-ge-nong.  She  would  not  stop  with  me  at  Macki- 
nac, which  we  passed  in  the  night,  but  ran  along  to  Point  St. 
Ignace,  where  she  hired  some  Indians  to  take  care  of  me,  while 
she  returned  to  Mackinac  by  herself,  or  with  one  or  two  of  her 
young  men.  After  finishing  her  business  at  Mackinac,  she  re- 
turned, and  continuing  on  our  journey,  we  arrived  in  a  few  days 


(t 


i 


.•si* 


1ANN£R  S    NARRATIVI.. 


ar 


til  »Shal)-n-\vy-wy-u-gun.  The  corn  was  ripe  wlioii  we  rcachtcl 
that  place,  and  after  stopj)ing  a  little  while,  we  went  three  days 
up  the  river,  to  the  place  where  they  intended  to  pass  the  winter. 
We  then  left  our  canoes,  and  travelling  over  land,  camped  three 
times  before  we  came  to  the  place  where  we  set  up  our  lodges  for 
the  winter.  The  husband  of  Net-no-kwa  was  an  Ojibbeway,  of 
Red  River,  called  Taw-ga-we-ninnc,  the  liimter.  He  was  seven- 
teen years  \  ounger  than  Net-no-kwu, and  had  turned  oil"  a  former 
wife  on  l)i  mg  married  to  her.  Taw-ga-we-ninin^  was  always  in- 
dulgent and  kind  to  me,  treating  ine  like  an  equal,  rather  than 
as  a  dependant.  When  sj)eaking  to  me,  he  always  called  me  his 
son.  Indeed,  he  himself  was  but  of  secondary  importance  in 
the  family,  as  every  thing  belonged  to  Net-no-kwa,  and  she  had 
the  direction  in  all  allairs  of  any  moment.  She  imposed  on  me, 
for  the  first  year,  some  tasks.  She  made  me  cut  wood,  bring 
home  game,  bring  water,  and  perform  other  services  not  com- 
monly required  of  the  boys  of  my  age ;  but  she  treated  me  inva- 
riably with  so  much  kindness,  that  I  was  far  more  hap|)y  and 
4;ontent,  than  I  had  been  in  the  family  of  Maiiito-o-geezhik.  She 
sometijnes  whij)ped  me,  as  she  did  her  own  children ;  but  I  was 
not  so  severely  and  freciuently  beaten  as  I  hail  been  before. 


aft 


tanner's  narkativi::. 


11. 


CHAPTER  II. 

First  attompi  to  hunt — mcaKlt's — tra|)i)ing  martins— emigration  to  Red  River — 
death  ol'iny  foster  lather  and  hrotlier — arrival  at  Lake  \ViunijK'k. 

Early  in  tlie  spriiijr,  Not-no-kwa  and  her  liusl)Hn(l,  with  their 
family,  started  to  go  to  Mackinac.  They  left  me,  as  they  liad 
done  before,  at  Point  St.  Itriiace,  as  they  woidd  not  run  the 
risk  of  losing  mc  by  sulFering  me  to  be  seen  at  Mackinac.  On 
onr  retin';i,  after  we  had  gone  twenty-five  or  thirty  miles  from 
Point  St.  Igiiace,  we  were  flelained  by  contrary  winds,  at  a  place 
railed  Me-nan-ko-king,  a  point  rnnning  tmt  into  the  lake.  Hero 
we  encamped  with  some  other  Indians,  and  a  party  of  traders. 
Pigeons  were  very  mnnerons  in  the  wooiis,  and  the  boys  of  my 
age,  and  the  traders,  were  busy  shooting  them.  I  had  never 
killed  any  game,  and,  indeed,  had  never  in  my  life  discharged  a 
gun.  My  mother  had  purchased  at  Mackinac  a  keg  of  powder, 
which,  as  they  thought  it  a  little  damp,  was  here  spread  out  to 
dry.  Taw-ga-we-iiinne  had  a  large  horse-man's  pistol ;  and 
liiiding  myself  somewliat  eml)oldened  by  his  indulgent  manner 
toward  me,  I  requested  permission  to  go  and  try  to  kill  sonn- 
pigeons  with  tlie  pistol.  My  recjuest  was  seconded  by  Nti-no- 
kwa,  who  said,  "  it  is  time  for  our  son  to  begin  to  learn  to  he  a 
hnnter."  Acc(»rdingly.  my  lather,  as  I  called  Taw-ga-we-niime, 
loaded  the  [lislol  and  gave  it  to  me,  saying,  "(Jo,  my  son,  and  if 
you  kill  any  thing  with  this,  you  shall  immediately  have  a  gun, 
and  learn  to  hunt."  Since  t  have  been  a  man,  I  have  been  placed 
in  didicult  situati(nis;  Init  my  anxiety  for  success  was  never 
greater  than  in  this,  my  tirst  essay  as  a  hunter.  I  had  not  gone 
far  from  the  camp,  before  I  met  with  jiigeon.-.,  and  some  of 
them  alighted  in  the  bushes  very  near  me.  I  cocked  my  pistol, 
and  raised  it  to  my  face,  bringing  the  breech  almost  in  contact 
Avitli  my  nose.  Having  brought  the  sight  to  bear  npon  the 
pigeon,  I  j)ulled  trigger,  and  was  in  the  next  instant  sensible  of 
:i  humming  noise,  like  that  of  a  stone  sent  swiftly  through  the 
air.     I  found  the  ]»istol  at  the  ilislance  of  some  paces  behind  me. 


li! 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVl,, 


39 


and  the  pigeon  under  the  tree  on  which  he  liad  been  sitting. 
My  face  was  much  bniistid,  and  covered  with  ijlood.  1  run  home, 
carrying  my  pigeon  in  triumph.  My  face  was  speeihly  bound 
up;  my  pistol  exchanged  for  a  fowhng-piece ;  1  was  acc(»utred 
with  a  powder  horn,  and  furnished  with  shot,  and  aUowed  to  go 
out  after  birds.  One  of  the  young  Indians  went  with  me,  to  ob- 
serve my  manner  of  shooting.  1  kiUed  three  more  pigeons  in 
tlie  course  of  the  afternoon,  and  did  not  discharge  my  gun  once 
without  ivilhng.  Henceforth  1  begun  to  be  treated  with  more 
ronsi(U'ralion,  and  was  aUowid  to  hunt  often,  that  1  miglit  be- 
come expert. 

Great  part  of  the  summer  and  autumn  passed  before  we  re- 
turned to  Shab-a-wy-wy-a-gun.  When  we  arrived  we  found 
the  Indians  suH'ering  very  severely  from  the  measles;  and  as 
Nel-no-kwa  was  accjuainted  with  the  contagious  nature  of  tliis 
disease,  she  was  unwilling  to  expose  her  family,  but  passed  im- 
mediately through  the  village,  and  encamped  on  the  river  above. 
But,  notwithstanding  her  precautiiui,  we  soon  began  to  fall  sick. 
Of  ten  persons  belonging  to  our  family,  incluiUng  two  young 
wives  of  Taw-ga-we-ninne,  only  iVel-no-kwa  and  myself  escaped 
an  attack  of  this  complaint.  Several  of  them  were  very  sick, 
and  the  old  woman  and  myself  found  it  as  nuicli  as  we  co\dil  do 
to  take  care  of  them.  In  the  village,  numbers  died.  b\it  all  of 
our  family  escaped.  As  the  winter  approached,  tiiey  began  to 
get  better,  and  went,  at  length,  to  our  wintering  ground,  at  the 
same  place  where  we  had  spent  the  former  winter.  Here  I  was 
set  to  make  martin  traps,  as  the  otiier  hiniters  did.  The  lirst 
day  I  went  out  early,  and  spent  the  wlnde  day.  relurninir  late  at 
night,  having  made  only  three  traps;  vhereas,  in  the  siime  time, 
a  good  hunter  woidd  have  nuide  twenty-live  or  thirty.  On  the. 
morning  followinj),  I  visited  my  traps,  and  found  but  one  martin. 
ThuH  I  continued  lo  do  for  some  days,  but  my  waitt  of  success, 
ami  my  awkwanliu'ss,  exposed  me  to  the  ridicule  of  the  young 
men.  At  length,  my  father  bej/an  to  pity  me,  and  he  said,  "  My 
son,  1  mtist  go  and  help  you  to  make  traps."  So  be  went  out 
and  spent  a  day  in  makinir  n  large  numlier  of  traps,  which  he 
gave  me,  and  then  I  was  able  to  fake  as  many  martins  as  (he 
others.  The  yotmg  men,  however,  did  not  forget  to  tell  nu'.  on 
all  occasions,  ul'  the  assiHtuncu  i  hud  received  iVum  my  father. 


40 


tanner's  narrative. 


This  winter  was  passed  like  the  preceding ;  but  as  I  becauit 
more  and  more  expert  and  successful  in  hunting  and  trapping,  I 
was  no  longer  required  to  do  the  work  of  the  women  about  the 
lodge. 

In  the  following  spring,  Net-no-kwa,as  usual,  went  to  Macki- 
nac. Hhe  always  carried  a  flag  in  her  canoe,  and  I  was  told, 
that  whenever  she  came  to  Mackinac,  she  was  saluted  by  a  gun 
from  the  fort.  I  was  now  thirteen  years  old,  or  in  my  thirteenth 
year.  Bef(»re  we  left  the  village,  I  heard  Net-no-kwa  talk  of 
going  to  Ked  River,  to  the  relations  of  her  husband.  Many  of 
the  Ottawwaws,  when  they  heard  this,  determined  to  go  with  her. 
Among  others,  was  Wah-ka-zee,  a  chief  of  the  village  at  War- 
gun-uk-ke-zee,*  or  L'Arbre  Croche,  and  others ;  in  all,  six  ca- 
noes. Instead  of  leaving  me,  in  this  instance,  at  Point  St. 
Ignace,  they  landed  with  me  in  the  night,  among  the  cedars,  not 
far  from  the  village  of  Mackinac  ;  and  the  old  woman  then  took 
me  into  the  town,  to  the  house  of  a  French  trader,  [Shabboyer,] 
with  whom  she  had  sufficient  influence  to  secure  my  confine- 
ment, for  several  days,  in  the  cellar.  Here  I  remained,  not  be- 
ing allowed  to  go  out  at  all,  but  was  otherwise  well  treated. 
This  confinement  seemed  to  be  unnecessary,  as  subsequently, 
when  we  were  ready  to  go  on  our  journey,  we  were  detained  by 
head  winds,  at  the  point  now  occupied  by  the  missionaries,  when 
I  was  suffered  to  run  at  large.  While  we  remained  here,  the 
Indians  began  to  be  drunk.  My  father,  who  was  drunk,  but 
still  able  to  walk  about,  spoke  (o  two  young  men  who  were 
walking  (tijjethcr,  and  taking  hold  of  the  shirt  shieve  of  one  of 
them,  he,  without  intending  to  do  so,  tore  it.  This  young  man, 
whose  name  was  Sug-gut-tiuv-gun,  [Spunk-wood,]  was  irritated, 
and  giving  my  father  a  rough  push,  he  fidl  on  his  back.  Sug- 
jfut-tjiw-gun  then  took  up  a  large  stone,  and  threw  it  at  him, 
hitting  him  in  (he  forehead.  When  I  saw  this,  I  became  alarmed 
for  my  own  safety ;  and,  as  I  knew  that  Me-to-saw-gea,  an  Ojib- 
beway  chief,  was  then  on  the  island,  with  a  party  going  against 
the  whites ;  and,   as  I  had  understood  they  had  sought  opportu- 


hud 


•  n'm-gun-uk-kc-icc  inoitnA,  an  Tiinnrr  wiys,  tho  lirnt  troo;  and  thr  ((iiic 
which  "juvcimmr  to  Ilic  iihicc  calli'il  liy  the  Fri'iii'Ii  1,'Arhrc  Crihhr,  waH Ktanding 
wjipn  hi!  firnl  viHildl  ihni  vjlln^r.  He  s|Kik('  with  crrnt  iiidiciiHtion  of  th«In- 
t\)n    who,  throiurh  inrrc  wsn'oimrsH,  cut  doivn  this  roiiwrkablo  tmr . 


' 


'^      'V, 


lAiNNKK's    NAKHATIVU. 


■J 


41 


allies  to  kill  me,  I  lliouirlii  my  situation  iin«r.iV.  1  acconlingly 
made  my  escape  to  the  uudiIs,  where  F  hid  myself  lor  tlie  re- 
mainder of  the  day,  and  the  night.  On  the  following  day,  beinjv 
pressed  by  hunger,  1  returned,  and  secreted  myself,  for  some 
time,  in  the  low  cedars  near  our  lodge,  in  order  to  observe  what 
was  passing,  and  to  ascertain  if  I  might  return.  At  length,  I 
discovered  my  mother  calling  me,  and  looking  for  me  through 
the  bushes.  1  went  up  to  her,  and  she  told  me  to  go  in  and  sec 
my  father,  who  was  killed.  When  I  went  in,  my  father  said  to 
me,  "  I  am  killed."  He  made  mc  sit  down  with  the  other  chil- 
dren, and  talked  much  to  us.  IJe  said,  "  Now,  my  children,  I 
have  to  leave  you.  I  am  sorry  that  I  must  leave  you  so  poor." 
He  said  nothing  to  us  about  killing  the  Indian  who  had  struck 
him  with  the  stone,  as  some  would  have  done.  He  was  too  good 
,1  man  to  wish  to  involve  lu-  family  in  the  troubles  which  such  a 
course  would  have  brought  upon  them.  The  youiiu'  man  who 
had  woinuled  him,  remained  with  us,  notwilhslaiuling  that  Net- 
no-kwatold  him  it  wouM  not  be  safe  for  him  to  go  to  Red  Hiver. 
where  her  iiusband's  relativ<!s  were  numerous  and  powerful,  and 
ili.-posed  to  take  revenge. 

When  we  eau»e  to  the  Saut  of  St.  Marie,  we  put  all  o\n'  ba'^  • 
gage  on  board  the  trader's  vessel,  which  was  about  to  sail  to  the 
upper  end  of  Lake  Su|»erior,  and  went  on  o;ns('lves  in  our  ca- 
noes. The  winds  were  light,  which  enabled  us  to  run  taster 
than  the  vessel,  and  we  arrived  ten  days  before  it,  at  the  Por- 
tage. When  she  at  last  came,  and  anchored  out  at  a  little  dis- 
tance from  the  shore,  my  father  and  his  two  sons,  Wa-me-gou- 
a-biew,  (he  who  puts  oi;  feathers,)  the  eldest,  and  Ke-wa-tin, 
(the  north  wind,)  went  out  in  a  canoe  to  get  the  baggage,  la 
junjping  down  into  the  hold  of  llie  vessel,  the  younger  of  these 
young  men  fell  with  his  knee  upon  a  knot  of  the  rope  tied 
around  a  bimdie  of  goods,  and  rtctived  an  lujiay  from  which  he 
never  recovered.  The  same  night  his  knee  was  badly  sM-(»lleii, 
and  on  the  next  day  he  was  not  able  to  go  out  \)['  the  lodge. 
After  about  eight  or  ten  days,  we  commenced  crossing  the  (irnnd 
Portage  :  we  carried  him  on  oia-  siu)nldrrs,  by  fastening  n  blanket 
to  two  poles  ;  but  he  was  so  sick  that  we  had  to  stop  often,  vvhicli 
made  us  long  in  passing.  We  left  our  canoes  at  the  Irading- 
house,  and  when  we  r nnic  to  the  other  side  of  the  Portage,  were 

(i 


TANNER    i    NARKATlVt. 


detained  some  days  to  make  small  canoes.  When  tliesie  were 
nearly  finished,  my  fiilher  sent  mc,  with  one  of  his  wives,  back 
to  the  tradini^-honse,  to  brinjr  somclhinfr  which  had  been  forgot- 
ten. On  our  return,  we  met  the  two  l)oys  at  some  distance, 
(•oniing  to  tell  mc  to  hasten  home,  for  my  father  was  dying,  and 
lie  wished  to  see  nie  before  he  died.  When  I  came  into  the 
lodge,  I  found  that  he  was  indeed  dying,  and  though  lie  could 
see,  he  was  not  able  to  speak  to  me.  In  a  few  minutes  he 
ceased  to  breathe.  Beside  hii".  lay  the  gun  wliich  he  had  taken 
in  his  hand  a  few  minutes  before,  to  shoot  the  young  man  who 
had  wounded  him  at  Mackinac.  In  the  morning,  when  I  left 
him  to  go  to  the  Portage,  he  was  apparently  well ;  my  mother 
told  me  it  was  not  until  aliernotm,  he  began  to  complain ;  he 
then  came  into  the  lodge,  saying,  "  I  am  now  dying;  but  since 
I  have  to  go,  this  young  man,  who  has  killed  me,  must  go  with 
me.  I  hoped  to  have  lived  (ill  I  had  raised  you  all  to  be  men  ; 
but  now  f  must  die,  and  leave  you  j)0(>r,  and  without  any  one  t<i 
provide  for  you."  So  saying,  iie  stepped  out,  with  the  gun  in 
Ids  hand,  to  shoot  the  young  man,  who  was  at  that  lime  sitting 
by  the  door  of  his  own  lodge.  Ke-wa-tin,  hearing  liiis,  began 
in  cry,  and,  addressing  his  fallier,  said,  "  My  father,  if  I  was  well 
I  could  help  you  lo  kill  tl\is  man,  and  could  protect  my  young 
brothers  from  the  vengeance  of  his  friends,  after  he  is  dead  ; 
but  you  see  my  situation,  ai\d  that  I  am  about  to  die.  My 
b.rothers  are  young  and  weak,  and  we  shall  all  be  murdered  it' 
you  kill  this  man."  My  fallior  replied,  "  My  son,  I  love  you 
loo  well  to  refus«'  you  any  thing  you  request."  So  saying,  In: 
leturned,  laid  down  his  gun,  and,  after  having  said  a  very  few 
words,  incpiired  for  me,  and  directed  them  lo  send  for  me,  he  ex- 
pired. The  old  witnian  procured  a  collin  from  the  traders,  and 
they  brought  my  lather's  body,  in  a  wagon,  to  the  trading- 
house,  on  this  side  the  (Jrand  Portage,  where  they  buried  him, 
in  the  burying  ground  of  the  whites.  His  two  sons,  as  well  as 
the  young  man  who  killed  him,  accompanied  his  body  to  the 
Tortage.  This  last  was  near  being  killed  by  one  of  my  brothers; 
but  the  other  prevented  him,  as  he  was  about  to  strike. 

It  was  but  a  very  short  time  after  my  father  died,  thai  we 
started  on  onr  journey  to  Red  River.  My  brotlier  Ke-wa-tiit 
^vp  carried  on  ti  litter,  as  we  had  done  before,  whenever  it  whs 


m 


'\X  \ 


lANXr.R  S    XAHRATIVF.. 


4:? 


A  \< 

you 

S'  ^»<" 
■y  ftnv 

\c  ex- 

rrt,  and 

iiiling- 

1  liim, 

i\\  as 

i»   the 

there ; 

lat  wo 

-wa-tin 

it  was 


necessary  to  iako  him  out  of  the  canoe.  \V(>  liiui  p;ir;se(l  two 
carrying  plaros,  and  arrived  at  tlie  third,  caUed  ilic  Moose  car- 
vying  place,  when  he  said  to  us,  "  I  must  die  here;  J  cannot  gn 
iarther."  So  Net-no-kwa  determined  to  stop  here,  and  the  re- 
mainder ol'tlie  party  went  on.  A  part  of  our  own  family  chose 
to  continue  on  witli  those  goiny;  to  Fled  River.  So  that,  after 
they  had  started,  there  remained  (udy  the  ohl  woman,  and  one  of 
tlie  younger  wives  t)f  Tau-ga-we-ninne,  V.'a-me-gon-a-hiew,  tin; 
cUIer  brother,  Re-wa-tin,  the  second,  and  myself,  the  youngest. 
It  was  about  the  middle  of  summer,  for  the  small  berries  were 
ripe,  when  w;;  sto[)ped  here  on  ihe  borders  of  Moose  Lake, 
which  is  of  cool  and  t dear  water,  like  Lake  Superior.  It  is 
small  and  round,  and  a  canoe  can  be  very  j)lainly  seen  across 
llie  widest  })tirt  of  it.  We  were  only  two  of  us  able  to  do  any 
thing ;  and  being  myself  very  young,  and  without  any  expe- 
rience as  a  hunter,  we  had  apprehension  that,  being  left  thus 
jilone,  we  might  soon  bo  in  want.  We  had  brought  willi  us  one 
iif  the  nets  used  about  Mackinac,  and  s»!ttin<>  this,  the  iirst 
night,  caught  about  eighty  trout  ami  white  lish.  After  remain- 
ing here  some  lime,  we  fouiul  beavers,  of  which  we  killeil  six; 
also,  some  otiers  and  muskrats.  We  had  brought  with  u<  some 
corn  and  grease,  so  that,  with  the  lish  we  caught,  and  tlie  ganu- 
we  killed,  we  lived  comfortably.  But,  at  the  aj)proach  of  win- 
ter, the  old  woman  told  us  she  could  not  venture  to  renuiin  then; 
by  herself,  as  the  winter  would  be  long  and  cold,  and  no  people, 
either  whites  or  Iiulians,  near  us.  Ke-wa-tin  was  now  so  sick 
aiul  weak,  that  in  going  back  to  the  Portag*',  we  were  compelled 
to  move  slowly;  and  when  we  arrived,  the  waters  were  begin- 
ning t<t  freeze.  He  lived  but  a  montli  or  two  alter  we  arrived. 
It  must  have  been  in  the  early  part,  or  before  the  middle  of 
winter,  that  he  di«'d.  The  old  woman  buried  him  by  the  side  of 
iier  husband,  and  himn  U])  oiu-  of  her  flaos  at  his  grave. 

We  now,  as  the  weather  became  severe,  began  to  grow  poor, 
Wa-me-gon-a-biew  and  myself  being  unable  to  kill  as  much  game 
as  we  wanted.  He  was  seventeen  years  of  age,  and  I  thirteen, 
and  game  was  not  plentifid.  As  the  weather  became  more  and 
n\ore  cold,  we  removed  from  the  trading  house,  and  set  up  our 
lodge  in  the  woods,  that  we  might  get  wood  easier.  Here  my 
brother  and  mvself  had  to  exert  ourselves  to  the  utmost,  to  avoid 


%i 


44 


1A\NJ;K  .S    XAUKATIVI.. 


j^lnrv  intr.  We  ii>cm1  to  lumt  two  or  ilireo  days'  distance  irom  home, 
jind  often  rolurned  with  but  litlk;  meat.  Wo  had,  on  one  of  our 
hunting  paths,  a  camp  hiiill  of  codar  bousrhs,  in  which  we  had 
Kindh^l  lire  so  often,  tliat  at  lenirlh  it  became  very  dry,  and  at 
last  cauglit  fire  as  we  were  lying  in  it.  The  cedar  had  become 
so  dry  thut  it  flashed  up  Hke  powder,  i)uv  fortunately  we  escaped 
with  little  injury.  A.s  we  were  returning,  and  still  a  great  distance 
iioni  home,  we  attempted  to  cross  a  river  which  was  so  rapid  as 
never  to  freeze  very  sound.  Though  the  weather  was  so  cold 
that  the  trees  were  constantly  cracking  with  the  frost,  we  l)roke 
in,  I  first,  and  at'terwards  my  brotiu^r;  and  he,  in  attempting  tu 
throw  himself  down  upon  the  ice,  w«'t  himself  nearly  all  over, 
while  I  had  at  first  only  my  feet  and  legs  wet.  Owing  to  our 
hands  being  benumbed  with  the  cold,  it  was  long  before  we  could 
extricate  ourselves  from  our  snow  shoes,  and  we  were  no  sooner 
out  of  the  water,  than  our  moccasins  and  leggins  were  frozen 
sliir.  My  brother  was  soon  discouraged,  and  said  he  was  willing 
to  die.  Our  spunk  wood  had  got  wet  when  we  fell  in,  and  thougli 
we  at  length  reached  the  shore,  as  we  were  unable  to  raise  a  fire, 
and  our  moccasins  and  cloalhes  were  frozen  so  stiff  that  we  could 
nut  travel,  I  began  also  to  think  that  we  must  die.  But  I  was 
not  like  my  Indian  brother,  willing  to  sit  down  and  wail  patientlj 
lor  death  to  con\c.  [  kept  moving  about  to  the  best  of  my  jtower. 
while  he  lay  in  a  dry  place  Ity  the  side  of  the  bank,  where  the 
wind  had  blown  away  the  snow.  I  at  length  found  some  very 
dry  rotten  wood,  whicl.  1  used  as  a  sul)stiliite  for  spinik,  and  was 
so  happy  as  to  raise  a  fire.  We  then  aj)plicd  ourselves  to  thaw 
and  dry  our  moccasins,  and  when  jjartly  dry  we  put  them  on,  and 
went  to  (collect  fuel  for  a  larger  lire  than  we  had  before  been  able 
to  make.  At  length,  when  night  came  on,  we  had  a  comfortable 
lire  and  dry  cloathes,  an<l  though  we  had  nothing  to  eat,  we  did 
not  regard  this,  after  the  more  severe  siiirering  from  cold.  At  thr 
earliest  dawn  we  left  our  camp,  and  proceeded  toM'arda  home  : 
hut  at  no  great  distance  met  our  mother,  bringing  dry  clothes 
and  a  little  fiiod.  She  knew  that  we  oiisrht  to  have  been  home 
on  the  preceding  day  by  sunset,  and  was  also  aware  of  the  dilfi- 
eull  river  we  had  to  cross.  Soon  nfter  dark,  being  con\'inced 
that  we  must  have  fallen  through  'he  ice,  she  started,  and  walk- 


JANNER  S    NAKKATIVI., 


45 


pry 
\va> 
law 
uud 
ablr 
able 
dirt 
t  tin: 

omi' : 
ithes 

loinr 
(lirti- 
nred 

valk- 


iiisr  all  night,  met  us  not  far  from  tlu;  place  where  the  accident 
liappeiiPil. 

Thus  we  lived  for  some  time,  in  a  suflering  and  ahn<ist  starvinii; 
condition,  when  a  Muskegoe,  or  Swamp  Iruhan,  called  the  Smo- 
ker,* came  to  the  trading  house,  and  learninir  thai  we  were  verv 
poor,  invited  us  home  with  him,  to  his  awn  v-ouniry,  saying  h(j 
could  h\mt  for  us,  and  would  hrinu  us  hack  in  the  spring.  Wo 
went  two  long  days  journey  towards  the  west,  and  came  lo  a  place 
called  We-sau-ko-ta  See-bee,  Burnt  Wood  River,  where  we  found 
his  lodge.  He  took  us  into  his  own  Iodide,  and  wliile  we  re- 
mained with  him,  we  wanted  for  nothing.  Such  is  still  the  cus- 
tom of  the  Indians,  remote  from  the  whites  ;  but  the  Ottawwaws, 
and  those  near  the  settlements,  have  learned  to  be  like  the  whites, 
and  to  give  only  to  those  who  can  jias .  If  any  one,  who  had  at 
that  time  been  of  tiie  family  of  Miet-iio-kwa,were  now,  after  so 
many  years,  to  meet  one  of  the  family  of  Pe-twa\v-we-ninnc,  he 
would  call  him  "brother,"  ami  treat  him  as  such. 

W^e  had  been  but  a  fvw  days  at  the  Portage,  when  another  man 
of  the  sanH>  band  of  Muskegoes,  invited  us  to  go  with  him  to  a 
large  island  in  Lake  Superior,  where,  he  said,  were  plenty  of 
Caribou  and  Sturgeon,  and  where,  he  had  no  doubt,  he  could 
jirovide  all  that  would  he  necessary  for  our  support.  We  went 
with  him,  accordingly  ;  and  starting  at  the  earliest  appearance  of 
dawn,  we  reached  the  islanil  somewhat  before  night,  though 
there  was  a  light  wind  ahead.  In  the  low  rocky  points  about 
this  island,  we  found  more  gull's  eggs  than  we  were  able  to  take 
awav.  We  also  took,  with  spears,  two  or  three  sturgeons,  im- 
mediately on  our  arrival :  so  that  our  want  of  food  was  supplied. 
On  the  next  day,  Wa-ge-mah-wub,  whom  we  called  our  brother- 
in-law,  and  who  was,  in  some  remote  degree,  related  to  Net-no- 
gua,  went  to  hunt,  and  returned  at  evening,  having  killed  two 
caribou.  On  this  island,  is  a  large  lake,  which  it  look  us  about 
a  day  to  reach,  from  the  shore ;  and  into  this  lake  runs  a  small 
river.  Here  we  found  beaver,  otter,  and  oilier  game;  and  as 
long  as  we  remained  in  the  island,  we  had  an  abundant  supply 

*  Pe-twaie-ice-ninnr. — This,  liovvi'vcr,  is  n  ("r<'<:  wi)rd ;  tlio  luiiio  uniDng  the 
Ojil'lipwiiys,  IB  Siig-gno-s^Fav'-ice-ijinnc.  Miiskt'go*'  is  from  .Miif-keek,  a  nwamp, 
und  ia  applied  to  a  l<aud  of  the  OjiblH'Wiiys,  enjuyin^  in  ffcnetil  no  very  gocxi 
iiRmo. 


^  'iuj. 


.  iyK-, 


''%. 


•aiMcilB 


40 


iANNER  rt  narhativi;. 


\u. 


.k^  i 


I!  I, 


«)f  provisions.  We  met  here  the  relations  of  Wa-ffp-mah-wub  in 
eight  (;anoes ;  with  whom  we  at  length  started  to  return  to  the 
Portage.  We  were  ten  canoes  in  ail,  and  we  started,  as  we  had 
done  ill  coming,  at  the  earliest  dawn  of  the  morning.  The  night 
had  been  calm,  and  the  water,  when  wv  left  tlie  island,  was  j)er- 
I'ectly  smooth.  Wc  had  proceeded  about  two  hundred  yards  into 
the  lake,  when  tin;  canoes  all  stopped  together,  and  tlie  chief,  in 
a  very  loud  voice,  addressed  a  prayer  to  the  Great  Spirit,  entreat- 
ing him  to  give  us  a  good  look  to  cross  ihe  lake.  "  You,"  said 
he,  "have  made  this  lake,  and  you  have  made  «is,  your  children; 
you  can  now  cause  that  the  wat(!r  shall  remain  smooth,  while  wc 
pass  over  in  safely.''  In  this  maimer,  he  continued  praying  for 
five  or  ten  mintites  ;  he  then  threw  into  tin;  lake  a  small  <iuanti- 
ty  of  tol)acc(t,  in  which  eacii  of  tlie  canoes  fidlowed  his  example. 
They  then  nil  started  together,  and  the  old  chief  conmienced  his 
song,  which  was  a  religious  one  ;  but  I  cannot  remember  exactly 
Ihe  meaning  of  what  he  sung.  1  had  now  forgotten  my  mother 
tongue,  and  retained  few,  if  any,  ide;is  of  the  religion  of  the 
whites.  I  can  remember,  that  this  address  of  the  chief  to  the 
Great  S|)irit,  appenred  to  me  impressive  and  solemn,  and  the  In- 
dians seemed  all  somewhat  impressed  by  it,  or  perhaps  by  their 
situation,  beintr  exposed,  on  the  broad  lake,  in  their  frail  bark 
canoes,  they  could  not  but  f«'el  iheir  dependance  upon  that  Power 
which  controls  the  winds  and  the  waves.  They  rowed  and  pad- 
dled, silently  and  diligently,  and  long  before  night,  arrived  in 
safety  at  the  Grand  Portage;  the  lake  having  remained  perfectly 
calm.  At  this  time,  I  was  suHered  to  {jo  entirely  at  large,  being 
subjected  to  no  manner  of  restraint,  and  might,  at  almost  an\ 
time,  have  made  my  escape  from  the  In<lians :  but  I  believed  mv 
father  and  all  my  friends  had  been  murdered,  and  I  remend)ered 
the  laborious  and  confined  manner  in  which  I  must  live,  if  I  re- 
turned among  the  whites;  where,  having  no  friends,  and  being 
destitute  of  money  or  property,  I  must,  of  necessity,  be  exposed 
It)  all  the  ills  of  extreme  poverty.  Among  the  Indians,  J  saw 
that  those  who  were  too  young,  or  too  weak  to  hunt  for  them- 
selves, were  sure  to  find  some  one  to  provide  for  them.  I  was 
also  rising  in  the  estimation  of  the  Indians,  and  bt coming  as  one 
of  them.    I  therefore  chose,  for  the  present,  to  remain  w'ith  them. 


I 

1 


I 


I 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVE. 


47 


cl    ill 

rtly 

K'illfr 

an  \ 

I  my 

nrcd 

I  n- 

iciiiu" 

)OSt'(.l 

saw 
lem- 

was 
IS  one 
them. 


biit  always  intended,  at  some  future  time,  to  return  and  live 
among  the  whites. 

We  were  now  again  at  the  Portage,  wlienee  we  had  been 
twice  removed  by  the  friendly  hospitality  of  the  Muskcgoes  : 
and  were  left  to  consult  about  the  course  we  would  pursue.  When 
our  mother  had  at  lengtli  v  '  up  her  mind  to  continue  on  to 
Red  River,  acconhng  to  l.<r  original  plan,  she  heard,  by  one  of 
the  traders,  that  her  son-in-law,  the  husband  of  one  of  her  daugh- 
ters, who  had  continueil  on  from  Moose  Lake,  at  the  time  wt^ 
had  been  compelled  to  stop  with  Kc-wa-tin,  had  been  killed  by 
an  old  man,  in  a  drunken  frolick.  The  traders  had  brought  the 
widow  as  far  as  Rainy  Lake,  whence  she  had  sent  word  to  her 
mother,  that  she  wished  her  to  come  and  join  her.  This  was  an 
(ulditional  inducement  to  us  to  go  to  Red  River,  and  we  deter- 
mined to  proceed  without  delay. 

Our  canoe  had  been  lent  to  the  traders,  and  was  sent  on  tin 
route  towards  Red  River  to  bring  packs.  As  they  were  al)out  tt» 
(lespatcb  more  canoes,  JVe(-no-gua  reciuested  tjiey  would  distri- 
bute us  about,  one  or  two  to  each  canoe,  s"  that  we  might  go  on 
until  we  should  meet  our  own  canoe.  Alter  a  day  or  two,  we  met 
ilie  Frenchmen,  with  our  canoe  ;  but  as  they  refused  to  give  it 
up,  the  old  womim  took  it  from  them  without  thei>"  conscnl,  put 
it  in  the  water,  and  ])ut  our  baggage  on  board.  The  Frenchmen 
dareil  not  make  any  resistance.  I  have  never  met  with  an  Indian, 
either  man  or  woman,  who  had  so  much  authority  as  Net-no-kwa. 
She  could  accomplish  whatever  she  pleased,  either  with  the  tra- 
ders or  the  Indians ;  probaldy,  in  some  measure,  because  she 
never  attempted  to  do  any  tliina;  which  was  not  riirbt  and  just. 

At  Rainy  Lake,  we  found  the  old  wonum's  daughter,  in  the  care 
of  some  Indians,  but  very  poor.  Net-no-kwa  conferred  long  with 
her,  on  our  situation  ;  she  talked  of  all  our  misfortunes  and  losses, 
and  the  death  of  her  husbaiul  and  son.  She  knew,  she  said,  that 
her  two  little  sons  who  remained,  were  young,  but  they  w^'re  now 
becoming  able  to  do  something ;  and  that,  since  she  had  come  so 
far,  for  the  purpose  of  going  to  Red  River  to  hunt  beaver,  she 
was  not  willing  to  turn  back.  My  brother  and  myself,  although 
deeply  interested  in  these  consultations,  were  not  alloweil  to  have 
any  voice. 

It  being  determined  that  we  should  go  to  Red  River,  we  con- 


1 


f 


-IWJI-H-^IH  .1 


48 


tanner's    NAKKA'ilVi:. 


tiiiiiod  on  to  tlio  Lal<o  of  tlio  Woods.  Tliis  lake  is  called  by  the 
Tiuliiuis  Pub-bo-kwaw-waunfr-jiiiw  Saii-jfi-e-gun,  "the  Lak(j  of  tho 
Sand  Hills."  Why  it  is  ralifd  "Lake  of  the  Woods"  by  the 
whites,  I  cannot  tell,  as  there  is  not  much  wood  about  it.  Here 
we  were  much  endangered  by  high  winds,  the  waves  dashing  into 
our  canoe  so  fast,  that  I  was  scarcely  able,  with  a  large  kettle, 
to  throw  out  the  wat<'r  as  fast  as  it  came  in. 

In  the  fall  of  the  year,  we  arrived  at  the  Lake  of  Dirty  Water, 
called  l)y  the  wliites  Lake  Wiimepeg.*  Here  old  Net-no-gua, 
being  much  cast  down  with  gri(!f,  in  consc(juence  of  all  the  mis- 
fortunes and  losses  she  had  encountered  since  she  left  her  own 
country,  began  to  drink,  which  was  unusual  with  her,  and  soon 
became  druidi.  We,  being  foolish,  and  iniaccustomed  to  direct 
our  own  motions,  seeing  that  the  wind  rose  fair,  determined  to 
j)lace  the  old  woman  in  the  canoe,  and  cross  to  the  other  side  of 
the  lake.  The  traders  advised  us  not  to  attempt  it  in  the  pr*^- 
sent  state  of  the  wind,  but  we  wouid  not  listen  to  them,  and  ac- 
cordingly pushed  ofl'  and  raised  our  sail.  As  the  wind  blew  di- 
reclly  off  the  shore,  the  waves  did  not  there  run  high;  but  we 
had  oidy  been  out  a  short  time,  wlien  they  began  to  dash  with 
great  violence  into  the  canoe.  We  now  found  it  would  be  more 
dangerous  to  attempt  to  turn  about,  and  regain  the  inhere  we  had 
left,  than  to  continue  on  directly  before  the  wind.  At  this  time  the 
sun  went  down,  and  the  wind  began  to  blow  more  violently.  Wr 
lookeil  upon  ourselves  as  lost,  and  began  to  cry.  At  this  time, 
the  old  woman  began  to  wake  from  her  drunken  tit,  and  presently 
becoming  conscious  of  our  situation,  she  sprang  up,  and  first  ad- 
dressing a  loud  and  earnest  prayer  to  the  Great  Spirit,  she  a[)- 
plied  herself,  with  surprising  activity,  to  the  use  of  her  paddle, 
nl  the  same  tinu;  encouraging  u>*,  and  <lirecting  Wa-me-gon-a- 
biew  how  to  steer  the  canoe.  But  at  length,  as  we  came  near 
the  shore,  and  she  began  to  recogni/e  the  spot  we  were  ap- 
proaching, she  also  began  to  manifest  jniich  alarm  ;  and  said  to 
us,  "  my  children,  it  appears  to  me  we  nuist  all  perish,  for  this 
shore  before  us  is  full  of  large  rocks  lying  in  the  water,  and  our 
canoe  must  be  dashed  ia  pieces  :  nevertheless,  we  can  do  nothing 


'^ 


*  This  word,  Win-ne-{)Pg,  is  derived  from  win-)ir-bf-a,  "dirty  water,"  or  trcep- 
iiu-gum-ma,  whieli  lias  nearly  the  same  meaning.     'I"he  lake  is  called  by  the  In 

(liiiTiK  Win-'ir-hr-ii  Slav-!^lc-"uv.  "Dirtv  Water  Lake."' 


\    'V 


I 


'-k: 


o:' 


XANNER's    NAKKATIVE. 


49 


but  to  nm  directly  on,  and  though  we  cannot  sec  where  the;  rocks 
lire,  \v(!  may  possibly  pass  Ijctwocn  them."  And  it  so  happened, 
our  canoe  beinjr  thrown  high  upon  a  spot  of  smooth  sand  beach, 
where  it  first  struck.  We  inunediately  sprang  out,  and  soon  drag- 
ged it  up  beyond  the  reach  of  the  waves.  We  encam|)ed,  and 
had  no  sooner  kindled  a  tire,  than  we  began  to  laugh  at  the  old 
woman  for  lieing  druidi,  and  for  the  apprehension  she  had  mani- 
fested after  she  waked.  In  the  morning,  we  perceived  that  the 
shore  was  such  as  slie  had  described,  and  that  in  utter  darkness, 
we  had  landed,  where,  with  such  a  wind,  tlie  boldest  Indian 
would  not  venture  by  day  light.  We  remained  at  this  camp  great 
part  of  the  next  day,  which  happened  to  be  calm  and  fair,  to  dry 
our  baggage,  and  towards  evening,  embarked,  and  ran  for  the 
month  of  Red  River.  We  did  not  enter  the  mouth  of  the  river 
until  late  at  night,  and  perceiving  a  lodge,  we  landed,  and  laid 
down  without  kindling  a  fire,  or  making  any  noise  to  disturb  the 
people,  as  we  did  not  know  who  they  were.  In  the  morning 
they  came  and  waked  us,  and  we  found  them  to  be  the  family  of 
one  of  the  l)rothers  of  Taw-ga-we-ninne,  and  the  very  people 
we  had  come  to  seek. 

7 


Wf 
time, 
sently 
it  ad- 
he  ap- 
laddle, 
ixon-a- 
neav 
re  ap- 
iiid  to 
this 
nd  our 
ithing 


'ill 


,.*.: 


50 


tanner's  narrative. 


CHAPTER  in. 

Friendly  rrroplion  anion;;  tlic.  Indiani^dU  tlii-Assiiinclioiu— Hraini;l'i>rtai{c — N(H- 
no-kwa's  (Iroani,  luid  its  t'uHilnirnl — nirct  with  Pc-shuu-ba,  a  distiii^'uislicd 
warrior  of  the  Ollawwaws — journry  to  Kau-wau-koniiijr,  mid  rc^idrnct"  there — 
return  towards  l^ake  .Sujierior — war-party  against  thu  Minn»'tauks — mouth  ot' 
Awsinneboin  river. 


k 


After  a  few  days,  wc  staitrd  to  fjo  up  the  Red  River,  and  in 
two  (lays  came-  to  tlie  iiiotilli  of  the  Assimiehoiii,  where  we  foii 
jrreat  ntimbers  ol"  Ojibbeways  and  Ottawwaws  encamped.  A^ 
tioon  a«  we  arrived,  tlie  rliiel's  met,  to  take  our  ease  iedo  eonsi- 
deratioii,  and  to  aoree  on  some  method  of  providing  for  nf-'. 
"  Tliese,  our  rehilions,"  said  one  of  the  chiefs,  "  liave  come  to  us 
from  a  distant  country.  These  two  little  boys  are  not  able  to  pro- 
ride  for  them,  and  wo  must  not  suffer  them  to  be  in  want  among- 
us."  Then  one  man  after  another  offered  to  hiuit  for  us;  and 
they  agreed,  also,  since  we  had  started  to  conu!  for  the  jjurposr 
of  hujiting  beaver,  and  as  our  himters  had  died  on  the  way,  that 
each  shotdd  give  us  some  part  of  what  they  shotild  kill.  We 
then  all  started  together  to  go  up  the  Assinneiioin  river,  and  the 
lirst  night  ue  camped  among  the  buflaloe.  in  the  morning,  I 
was  allowed  to  go  out  with  some  Indians,  who  went  to  hunt 
buflaloes.  We  killed  one  of  four  bidls  which  we  found.  Wc 
continued  to  ascend  the  Assinneboin  about  ten  days,  killing 
many  bears  as  we  travelled  along.  The  Assinneboin  is  broad, 
shallow,  and  crooked,  and  the  water,  like  that  of  Red  River,  is 
turbid  ;  but  the  bottom  is  sandy,  wliih>  that  of  Red  River  is  com- 
monly muddy.  The  place  to  which  we  went  on  the  Assiimeboin, 
is  seventy  miles  distant  by  land  from  the  mouth ;  but  the  dis- 
tance by  water  is  greater.  The  banks  of  the  river,  on  both 
sides,  are  covered  with  poplar  and  white  oak,  and  some  other 
trees,  which  grow  to  considerable  size.  The  prairies,  however, 
are  not  far  distant,  and  sometimes  come  into  the  immediate  hank 
of  the  river.  We  stopped  at  a  place  called  Prairie  Portage, 
where  the  Indians  directed  the  trader  who  was  with  them,  to 


u^ 


JANNEUS    NARUATIVl 


51 


i.ullil  Ins  lujiisf,  iiml  reinaiii  during  the  wintrr.  \\c  |p(i  all  our 
rutidcs,  iiiul  went  up  into  tiu'  country  to  hunt  lor  Ixiivcr,  amonu; 
the  sMiall  strciuiis.  Tlie  Indians  ffwv  Wa-nu'-gon-a-ltiew  and 
nivscll'a  little  creel*,  'vhero  were  plenty  ofheaver,  and  on  which 
lliey  said  none  hut  ourselves  should  hunt.  My  mother  ;fave  mv. 
three  tra])S,  and  instructed  lue  how  to  set  them  by  the  aid  of  a 
string  tied  arouiul  the  spring,  as  I  was  not  yet  able  to  set  thenx 
with  my  hands,  as  the  Indians  did.  I  set  my  tlirec'  traps,  and  on 
tlu^  loilowing  nu)rning  found  beavers  in  two  of  them.  Being 
unabh'  to  lake  tlu'in  out  myself,  [  carried  lumu'  the  beavers  and 
traps,  one  at  a  time,  on  my  back,  and  had  the  old  woman  to  as- 
sist me.  Siie  was,  as  usual,  highly  gratified  and  delighted  at  my 
success.  iShe  had  always  been  kind  to  me,  often  taking  my 
side,  when  the  Indians  would  ultempt  to  ridicule  or  annoy  mc. 
We  remained  in  this  |)iace  about  three  months,  in  which  time 
Me  were  as  well  jirovided  for  as  any  of  tlie  band;  for  if  our  owji 
game  was  not  sullicient,  we  were  sure  to  l)e  supplied  by  some  of 
our  friends,  as  long  as  any  thing  could  be  killed.  The  people 
that  r<'niained  to  spend  the  winter  with  us,  were  two  lodges,  our 
own  making  three  ;  but  wc  were  at  length  joined  by  four  lodges 
of  CJrees.  These  people  are  tiie  r«dations  of  the  Ojibbeways  and 
Ottawwaws,  i)Ut  their  language  is  somewhat  dilierent,  so  as  not 
to  be  readily  understood.  Their  country  borders  upon  that  of 
the  Assinneboins,  or  Stone  Roasters  ;  and  though  th(^y  are  not 
relations,  or  natural  allies,  they  are  sometimes  at  j)eacc,  and  an; 
morc!  or  less  interndxed  with  each  other. 

After  we  had  r  nuiined  about  three  months  in  this  place,  game 
began  to  be  scarce,  and  we  all  sutlered  from  hunger.  The  chief 
man  of  our  band  was  called  As-sin-ne-boi-nainse,  (the  Little  As- 
riinneboin,)  and  he  now  proposed  to  us  all  to  move,  as  the  coun- 
try wiiere  we  were  was  exhausted.  The  day  on  which  we  werr 
to  commence  our  removal  was  lixed  upon,  but  before  it  arrived 
our  necessities  became  extreme.  The  evening  before  the  day 
on  which  we  inti^nded  to  move,  my  mother  talked  much  of  ail 
our  misfortunes  and  losses,  as  well  as  of  the  urgent  distress  un- 
der which  we  were  then  labouring.  At  the  usual  hour  I  went  to 
sleep,  as  did  all  the  younger  part  of  the  family  ;  but  I  was  waken- 
ed again  by  tlu!  loud  praying  and  singing  of  the  old  woman,  who 
<'onfinued  her  devotions  through  great  part  of  the  night.     Very 


H 


)  i 


.« 


lANNEUS    NARRATIVE. 


<  ally,  '111  tilt'  rollowiiiji'  morninir,  she  callotl  ut^  all  to  gel  up,  and 
put  on  our  moccasins,  and  l)e  ready  to  move.  She  then  called 
VVa-me-gfon-a-biew  to  her.  and  said  to  him,  in  rather  a  low 
voice,  "  My  son,  last  night  I  sung  and  prayed  to  the  (Jreat  Spiril. 
and  when  I  slept,  there  came  to  me  one  likc!  a  man,  ami  said  to 
ine,  '  Net-no-kiva,  to-morrow  you  Bliall  eat  a  bear.  'J'here  is,  at  a 
distance  from  the  path  you  are  to  travel  to-morrow,  and  in  such 
a  direction,  [which  she  described  to  him,]  a  small  round  meadow, 
with  something  like  a  path  leading  from  it;  in  that  path  llieie  is 
a  bear.'  N(»w,  my  son,  I  wish  you  to  go  to  that  place,  without 
mentioning  to  any  one  what  J  have  said,  and  you  will  certainly 
find  the  bear,  as  1  have  descril)ed  to  you."  But  the  young  man, 
who  was  not  particularly  diitil'ul,  or  apt  toregaril  what  Ids  mother 
said,  going  out  <>i'  the  lodge,  spoke  sneeringly  to  the  oth(  r  In- 
dians of  the  dream.  "  The  old  woman,"  said  he,  "  tills  me  we 
are  to  eat  a  bear  to-day ;  but  I  do  not  know  who  is  to  kill  it." 
The  old  woman,  hearing  him,  called  him  in,  and  reproved  him  : 
but  she  could  not  prevail  iipim  him  to  go  to  hunt.  The  Indians. 
accordingly,  all  moved  olT  towards  the  place  where  they  were  to 
«'ncamp  that  night.  The  men  went  first  by  themselves,  eac  h  car- 
rying some  article  of  baggage;  and  when  they  arrived  where  the 
camp  was  to  be  placetl,  they  threw  down  their  loads  and  went 
lo  hunt.  Some  of  the  boys,  and  I  among  them,  who  accoinpa- 
jiied  the  men,  remained  with  this  baggage,  until  the  women 
should  come  up.  I  had  my  gun  with  me,  and  I  continued  lu 
think  of  the  conversation  I  had  heard  between  my  mother  and 
Wa-nu'-iron-a-biew ,  respj'cting  h«-r  dream.  At  lenntb.  I  i< - 
.solved  to  go  in  search  of  the  place  she  had  spoken  of,  and  with- 
out mentioning  to  any  one  my  design.  I  loaded  my  gun  as  for  a 
bear,  and  set  ofl'  on  our  back  track.  I  soon  met  a  woman  be- 
longing to  one  of  the  brothers  of  Taw-ga-we-ninne,  and  ol  course 
my  aunt.  This  woman  ha<l  shown  little  friendship  for  us,  con 
siih'ring  us  as  a  burthen  upon  her  husband,  who  sometimes  gave 
something  for  our  support ;  she  had  also  often  ridiculed  nu . 
She  asked  me  immediately  what  I  was  doing  on  the  |)ath,  and 
whether  I  expected  to  kill  Indians,  (hat  I  came  there  with  i,n 
gun.  I  made  her  no  answer;  and  ibinkiiig  I  must  be  not  far 
from  the  |dace  where  my  mother  had  lidd  Wn-me-gon-a-bicw  to 
leave  tlie  path,  I  turned  olil  continuing  carefully  to  regard  all 


1 

i 

1 

!he  (1 

^1 

1 

;it  SOI 

ope  n 

1 

•<Mliili 

1 

had  s 

1 

jila<  r 

: 

the  Ml 

=; 

nolhii 

, 

the  Ik 

. 

rising 

Jiai!  ill 

1 

bul  W( 

the  o|) 
iiiv  mi 

(tllHMI 
(•<1    tt< 


aiiti 


I  n  - 

with- 
it  tr  a 
III  l»t'.- 


•(•iirsf 


i;iiv« 


I  nu . 
I,  iiiul 
li  un 
)l  Ihr 
I  vv  to 
id  all 


1  A.MNKr's    N  AKilATIV  I 


5;* 


she  ilircctions  she  had  "ivcii.  At  l('iif>th,  I  lomnl  wiiut  appoarfd 
at  some  Conner  time  to  h;ive  been  a  jioiid.  It  wasji  small,  round, 
open  phice  in  the  woods,  now  grown  up  with  grass  and  sonn- 
-mall  hushes.  This  i  thoiioht  must  l)e  the  ineadou  my  mollior 
had  s})oketi  of ;  and  ( .\aminin<r  it  around.  I  came  to  an  o[)ea 
plai'r  in  the  hushes,  vvln're,  it  is  probable,  a  small  brook  ran  from 
the  meadow;  but  the  snow  \\as  now  so  dee|)  that  I  could  sec 
iiothiiii;'  (d'  it.  My  mother  liad  nieiiii;tned,  that  ulun  she  saw 
the  bear  in  her  dream,  she  had,  ai  ilir  -ante  lime,  seen  a  smoke 
risinji  from  the  gro'.md.  1  was  confi  itni  ihis  was  the  place  she 
Jiad  indirated,  and  1  watched  lt»ii<r,  expectinjj  to  see  the  smoke: 
but  weariei!  at  leniiih  with  wailiii};,  i  walked  a  lew  paces  into 
the  open  place,  resemldinji  a  path,  w  hen  I  uinxpeeleilly  fell  up  to 
iny  middle  into  the  snow  .  I  <'\lricaled  niyst  If  without  ditrK'uUy, 
iiiid  walked  on:  but  remembering  that  1  had  lieard  the  Indians 
speak  of  killiiii;'  bears  in  tin  ir  holes,  it  occurred  to  me  that  it. 
iiiiuht  be  a  bear's  Jnde  into  which  I  had  fallen,  and  looking  down 
into  it,  I  saw  th«>  h«'ad  of  a  i)ear  l.\  ing  close  to  the  bottom  of  the 
liole.  I  placed  the  inu/.zh'  of  my  gun  nearly  between  his  eyei*. 
and  discharged  il.  As  soon  as  the  smoke  cleared  away,  I  took  a 
jiiece  of  a  slick  and  thrust  it  into  the  eyes  and  into  the  wouiul 
in  the  head  *d"  thi'  liear.  and  beinu  >aii-lied  (hat  he  was  dead,  I 
»  ndeavoured  to  lift  him  out  of  the  hole;  but  being  unuble  to  do 
this,  I  returned  houn-,  lollowing  the  track  I  had  made  in  ci)ming 
out.      As  I  came  near  the  camp,  where  the  scpiaws  hail,  by  this 


lime, 


set  U|)  the    lod 


ge; 


I    met    the  same  wonuin 


I 


Had  seen  iii 


going  out,  and  slu*  innnedialely  began  ajrain  to  ridicule  me. 
•■  Have  you  killed  a  bear,  that  you  come  back  s(»  sfxm,  and  walk 
so  fast  ?"  I  ihoiiirht  lo  myself,  "bow  does  she  know  that  i  have 
killed  a  bear?"  Hut  I  |tass<  d  by  her  without  sayinu  any  thing, 
and  went  into  my  nmther's  lodge.  After  a  few  minutes,  the  (dd 
woman  said,  "  My  son,  look  in  that  kettle,  and  you  will  find  a 
mouthful  of  beaver  nu'al,  which  a  man  ga\e  me  since  you  left  us 
in  the  moriung.     You 


must   leave  half  of  it  for  Wa-me-tro 


gtm-u- 


bi(  \v,  who  has  not  yet  returned  fnuii  huntinsr,  and  has  eaten 
nothing  to-day."  I  accordingly  ale  the  beaver  nn-at,  and  when 
I  hud  tinished  it,  observing  an  opportunity  when  ahe  stood  by 
herself,  I  stepped  up  to  her,  and  whis|)ere(l  in  her  ear,  "  My 
mother.  I  have  killed  r  bear."     "  What  do  vou  say,  my  son?" 


Vi         I 


54 


lANNKR  S   NARRATIVi;. 


.1      < 


1.  V 


i 


said  shf.  '•  I  have  killed  a  bear."  "  Are  you  sure  you  have 
killed  him?"  "Yes."  "  Is  he  quite  dead?"  "  V«'s."  She 
watehed  my  face  for  a  moment,  ami  then  eauirht  me  in  hc^r  arms, 
hu^jrino  ami  kissini^  me  with  {rreat  earnestness,  and  Cora  lonff 
lime.  I  then  told  her  what  my  aunt  had  said  to  me,  hoth  j?oint> 
ami  returning,  and  this  heiujr  told  to  her  husband  when  he  re- 
turned, he  not  only  reproved  her  tor  it,  but  gave  lier  u  severe 
tlogirinjir.  The  bear  was  sent  for,  and,  as  beinij  the  first  I  had 
killed,  was  cooked  all  together,  and  the  hunters  of  the  whole 
band  invited  to  feast  witii  us,  aceording  to  the  custom  of  the  In- 
dians. The  sauu'  day,  one  of  the  Crees  killed  a  bear  ami  a  moose, 
and  gave  a  large  share  of  the  meat  to  my  mother.  For  some 
time  we  had  plenty  of  game  in  our  new  residence.  Here  Wa- 
me-irou-a-biew  killed  his  tirst  bullaloe,  on  which  occasion  my 
mother  gave  another  feast  to  all  the  baml.  Soon  afterwards, 
ihe  Crees  left  us  to  go  to  their  own  country.  They  were  friend- 
]}•  and  hospitable  peo|)le,  and  we  wvvv.  sorry  to  part  with  ihem  ; 
but  we  soon  afterwards  went  down  )o  the  place  where  we  had 
left  the  trader,  and  arrived  there  on  the  last  day  of  December,  us 
I  remember  the  lollowing  was  new  year's  day. 

N»'ar  this  trading-house  we  remained  for  sometime  by  our- 
sel\i's;  at  length,  ue  received  a  message  from  the  trader,  and  on 
going  (i|>  foumi  lher«'  I'e-shau-ba,  a  celebraletl  war-chief  of  the 
Ottawwaws,  who  hud  come  from  Lake  Huron  several  years  b» - 
f(MT.  He,  it  appeared,  heard  in  his  own  <'onntry  of  an  old  Ol 
tawwaw  woman,  who,  with  a  family  of  two  wcunen,  t\vobo\-. 
and  lliree  little  cliildreii,  liavinii  lost  their  men  by  death,  w<>re  on 
the  A^sinneboin,  ami  sulfering  fvoiu  poverty.  He  had  conw. 
villi  his  three  companions,  [which  were  what  the  Indians  <'tini- 
monly  call  his  young  nu  n,  though  one  of  them  was,  jierbaps, 
older  than  himsfdC]  These  were,  Waus-so,  (the  li;ih(uini:.) 
Sug-gil-lo,  (he  that  scares  all  men,)  and  Sa-ning-\Mil),  (he  iliat 
stretches  his  wings.)  The  (dd  man,  Waus-so,  who  was  himsell 
rlislingiiished  as  a  warrior,  had  lallen  sick,  and  had  been  hfl  ai 
some  (lirttance  behind.  Pe-shan-lia  had  traced  us  from  |»lace  to 
jdnce,  by  the  reports  of  the  Indians,  and  at  la>l  found  us  at  I'rairie 
Portage.  He  was  a  large  and  v«'ry  handsome  tdil  man,  and  when 
we  wcri'  called  in,  he  imniediulfly  recognised  Net-no-kwa  um  a 
relnlive.     But  lookiim  round  njton  «s,  he  said,  "  Who  are  iht'Mr'" 


m 


*  \ 


-:t\yi 


^m^ 


lANNER  S    VARKAilVl..  ir.y 

JShe  answered,  "  They  are  my  sons."  lie  looked  at  me  very 
closely,  and  said,  "  Come  here,  my  brother."  Then  raising  his 
blanket,  he  showed  me  the  mark  of  a  deep  and  dangerous  wound 
on  the  chest.  "  Do  you  remember,  my  young;  brother,  when 
Ave  were  playiujcr  together,  with  ginis  and  spears,  and  you  gave 
me  this  wound  ?"  Seeing  my  embarr^snu'iil,  he  continued  to 
amuse  himself  for  some  time,  by  describing  the  circumstances 
attending  the  woimd,  at  the  time  he  received  il.  He  at  last  tv- 
lieved  me  from  some  suspense  and  anxiety,  by  saying,  it  was 
not  myself  who  had  wounded  iiim,  but  one  of  my  brotlicrs,  at  a 
place  which  he  menti(nied.  He  spoke  of  Ke-wa-tiii,  who  would 
have  been  <if  about  my  age,  if  he  had  lived,  and  impiired  parti- 
cularly to  the  tin)e  and  the  circumstances  of  my  cajjture,  which 
had  happened  after  he  left  Lake  Huron. 

This  was  about  new  year's  day,  and  soon  after  we  started  to- 
gether for  the  country  of  I*e-shan-ba,  which  was  at  a  great  dis- 
tance. The  snow  was  deep,  and  our  route  lying,  for  the  most 
part,  through  open  prairies,  we  were  not  able  to  travel  when  (ho 
wind  was  high.  When  we  commenced  our  journey,  we  wen; 
hungry,  and  in  want  of  provisions ;  but  soon  found  plenty  of 
l)uflitioe,  which  were  very  fat  and  good.  Notwithstaiuling  the 
.•^n  v  was  deep,  and  the  weather  severe,  the  buJfaloe  co\dd  still 
;  \    nishing  aside  the  snow  with  their  heads,  and  thus  comiu),'; 

a>  'I  _,iass  below.  We  had  thrown  away  our  mats  o(  I'uk- 
kwi,*  the  journey  being  too  long  to  admit  of  carrying  them. 
In  bad  weather  we  used  to  make  a  little  loduc,  ami  cover  it  with 
three  <tr  four  fresh  butlaloe  hides,  and  tlnse  being  soon  frozen, 
made  a  strong  shelter  troui  wind  ai\d  snow.  In  calm  weather. 
we  conunonly  encanii)ed  with  no  (»lher  covering  than  our 
blankets.  In  all  this  journey,  IV-sliHii-ba  and  Sa-nin-kwub  car- 
ried each  one  of  our  sister's  little  children  on  their  backs. 
Thus  we  travelled  on  as  diligently  as  the  weather  would  pernul, 
for  about  two  months  and  a  half.  In  the  middle  of  our  jonrne\, 
we  passed   the  truding-house  and  fort  at  Mouse   River.     The. 


♦  Puk-kiFi,  lilt'  rnt-liiil  (la^r,  (Typha  lutifolit},)  o(  which  wo  iimdc  the  coiirRr 
mnlH  nillcil  liy  the  Mfnoiiionii'H  (t-fxili-kfuA,  Iw  ihc  <  >jililM'wa_v»  ot  Ihi-  Tpprr 
MisMiBHippi,  t)-pali-kvi-ituk.  Then  Ih  a  lake  on  the  n»ulc  fnini  Grfeii  Hoy  l*» 
ihe  WistxiiiHjui,  nill«(|  on  the  iu8|wi /»uc/rawoy,  hut  the  word  is)  ill  Uio  count r>, 
(tronouiiccd  Puk-k-rri. 


!• 


1 


n) 


h. 


m 


lAN'NER  s  Narrative. 


general  direction  of  our  route  was  a  little  north  of  west,  till  we 
arrived,  at  last,  at  a  place  called  Kau-wau-ko-mig  Hah-ki(  -gun, 
Clear  Water  Lake,  from  which  runs  a  small  stream,  called  Sas- 
kaw-ja-wun,  (Swift  Water ;)  but  this  is  not  the  source  or  a  part 
of  the  great  river  Saskawjawun,  [Saskutchawiu,]  which  is 
farther  towards  the  north,  ("lear  Water  Lake  is  not,  however, 
the  principal  source  of  the  Little  Saskawjawun,  the  head  of 
that  river  lyinor  far  to  the  north.  On  the  bank  of  this  lake  was 
the  small  log  hut  of  Pe-shau-ba,  where  he  had  lived,  with  the 
three  men  I  have  mentioned,  for  some  years.  He  had  left  his 
wife  at  Lake  Huron ;  and  the  other  men,  if  they  had  ever  been 
married,  had  no  women  with  them.  Immediately  on  his  arrival, 
he  opened  his  sun-je-gwun,  and  took  out  large  quantities  of 
beaver  skins,  dried  meat,  dressed  skins,  &lc.  &c.  all  of  which  he 
delivered  to  the  women,  saying,  "  We  have  long  been  our  own 
squaws,  but  we  nnist  be  so  no  longer.  It  must  now  be  your  bu- 
siness to  dress  our  skins,  dry  our  meat,  make  our  m(>ccasins, 
&c."  The  old  won\an  herself  took  charge  particularly  of  the 
proj)erty  of  Pe-shau-ba.  whom  she  called  her  son,  and  treated 
as  s\ich.  The  daughter,  and  the  daughter-in-law,  made  it  their 
business  to  look  after  the  other  three  men.  Wa-me-gnn-a-biew 
and  myself  were,  as  heretofore,  imder  the  particular  care  of  our 
mother.  In  hunting,  I  was  tlie  comi)anion  of  Pe-shau-ba,  who 
was  always  kiiul  to  me,  and  seemed  to  take  pleasure  in  teaching 
ine  how  to  become  a  great  hunter.  It  nnist  have  been  late  in 
winter  when  we  arrived  at  Clear  Water  liake;  but  the  weather 
Was  still  so  cold  that  water,  \\  hen  carried  out  of  oin*  lodge,  would 
freeze  iimnedialely.  Whfii  tfoing  to  hunt,  we  started  long  before 
the  sun  rose,  and  returned  long  after  it  set.  At  noon,  the  sun 
would  scarce  rise  to  the  tops  of  the  trees,  though  they  are  very 
low  there. 

The  countr>  where  we  were  was  mostly  prairie,  with  some  low 
ledar  and  pine  trees  f  but  there  are  plenty  of  beavers  and  other 
game.  It  is  not  very  far  distant  from  the  coimtryof  the  Mau- 
dans,  on  the  Missouri.  From  Mttusc  Hiver  a  man  may  walk  to 
the  Maudan  villages  in  Coin- days.  .lust  before  the  leaves  began 
to  a|)pear  in  the  spring,  we  started  with  all  our  peltries,  and 
large  (juantities  of  dried  meal,  and  dried  beaver  tails,  to  come 
ilown  to  the  lradinir-housc>.  on  Mouse  River.     In  that  country 


''^KT!^^ 


lANNER  S    NAURATlVi:. 


57 


kiiir  low 
1(1  olhn 
Ic  Muu- 
Iwalk  to 

ho^,  and 

lo  conu' 

iountr> 


ihcre  is  no  birch  or  codur  fit  for  makinir  canoos,  so  that  we  were 
<'om|)cllc(l  to  ?i»ake  one  for  our  journey  of  irrvon  moose  skin.**, 
whieli,  being  sewed  together  with  great  care,  and  stretched  over 
a  proper  frame,  then  sntl'ered  to  dry,  niake  a  very  strong  and 
urood  canoe  ;  bnt  in  warm  weather  it  will  not  last  lung.  In  a 
canoe  of  this  kind,  which  would  carry  nearly  half  as  nmrh  as  a 
cuinmon  Mackinac  boat,  [perhaps  five  tons,]  we  all  luihurkcd 
witli  whatever  belonged  to  us,  the  intention  ol  Net-no-kwa  and 
Pe-shau-ba  being  to  return  to  Lake  Hiuon. 

We  descended  the  Little  Saskawjawun  for  several  days.  On 
this  river  we  found  a  village  of  Assinneboins,  with  whom  wo 
-stopped  a  short  time.  None  of  us  could  understand  them  ex- 
cept Waus-so,  who  had  somewhere  learned  to  sjieak  their  lan- 
guage. When  we  came  from  the  Little  iSaskawjawun  into  the 
Assiinieboin  river,  we  came  to  the  raj)ids,  where  was  a  village  of 
one  hundred  and  filty  lodges  of  Assinneboins,  and  some  Crees. 
We  now  began  to  feel  the  want  of  fresh  provisions,  and  deter- 
mined to  stop  a  day  or  two  to  kill  sturgeons  at  this  j)lace,  where 
we  found  a  plenty  of  them.  We  went  and  stood  near  the  As- 
s-iimcboins,  and  saw  an  old  man,  when  a  sturgeon  had  just  been 
drawn  ovit  of  the  water,  cut  oil  the  pendant  part  of  his  mouth, 
and  eat  it  without  cooking,  or  any  kind  of  condiment.  These 
pettplf  generally  apj)ear«'d  to  us  filthy  and  I)rutal.  H  )methino 
of  our  dislike  may  |)crhaps  ix-  attributed  to  the  habitually  un- 
friendly feeling  which  exists  among  the  ()jibl)eways  for  iho 
Abbwoi-mig.*  In  two  days  from  these  rapids  wc  came  to  Monk 
Kiver,  where  both  the  Northwest  and  the  Hudson's  Bay  Com- 
pany have  trading-houses!.  Here  Pe-shau-ba  and  his  friends  be- 
gan to  drink,  and  in  a  short  time  expended  all  the  peltries  they 
had  made  in  their  lonjr  and  successful  hunt.  Wc  sold  one  hun- 
dred beaver  skins  in  one  day  for  li([uor.  The  price  was  then 
six  beaver  skins  for  a  cpiart  of  rum,  but  they  |)ut  a  great  deal  of 
water  with  it.  After  drinkiuu  here  lor  sonic  time,  we  began  to 
make  birch  canoes,  still  intending  to  continue  on  <Mir  jomnev. 
Hut  at  this  time  the  Assinneboins,!  and  Crees,  and  all  the  IniliaiiH 
of  this  part  of  the  cotmtry,  with  whom  the  Maiidans  had  mad<5 
peace,  were  invited  by  the   Mandans  to  come  to  their  couiilry, 

*  Or  Spit  HcmsttTo,  so  cuIIih]  from  their  ronstinj;  lluir  lUPiits  on  woodni  K|>its. 
i  Awianuboiii»,  Stouo  Koasivro,  from  iiKiiig  hutted  iJtoac»  to  boil  their  provision'' 


III 


/ 


W<" 


bh 


'iANNKR  .S  KARRATlVt. 


i.^ 


I     1       'i' 


and  join  in  a  war  against,  tlic  people  called  by  the  Ojibbeways' 
A-giitch-a-ninne,*  who  live  two  days  distant  from  the  Mandant^. 
Waus-so,  hearing  of  thivS,  determined  to  join  the  war-party,  then 
assembling  at  Mouse  River.  "  I  will  not,"  said  he,  "  return  to 
my  country  before  I  get  scarred  once  more.  I  will  see  the  peo- 
ple who  have  killed  my  brothers."  Pe-shau-ba  and  Net-no-kwa 
endeavoured  to  dissuade  him,  but  he  would  not  listen,  and  Pe- 
shau-ha  himself  presently  began  to  show  evidence  of  excitement 
at  witnessing  the  t  ntliusiasm  of  his  companion.  After  delibe- 
rating a  (lay  or  two,  lie  said  to  the  old  woman,  "  I  cannot  con- 
sent to  return  to  the  country  of  the  Ottawwaws  withuut  Waus- 
so.  Sa-ning-wub  and  Sag-git-to  also  wish  to  go  with  him  to 
visit  the  neighbours  of  the  Mandans.  I  will  go  also,  and  I  wish 
you  to  wait  for  me  at  Lake  Winnipeg,  where  I  shall  be  in  the 
fall,  and  you  will  not  fail  to  have  a  keg  of  rum  in  readiness,  as  I 
shall  be  very  thirsty  when  I  return."  They  left  the  canoes  un- 
finished, and  all  went  off  together  with  the  war-party.  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew  also  accompanied  them,  leaving  me  only  with  the 
three  women  and  three  children.  Hut  this  expedition,  for 
which  the  Mandans  had  called  assistance  from  such  remote  re- 
gions, failed  for  the  Avant  of  concert  and  agreement  between  the 
different  bands.  Some  of  these  being  the  hereditary  enemies  of 
the  rest,  quarrels  were  sure  to  arise,  and  the  project  was  thus 
disconcerted,  the  A-gutch-a-ninne  being  left  at  peace  in  their  own 
village. 

After  they  had  gone,  I  started  with  Net-no-kwa  and  the  re- 
mainder of  the  family  for  Lake  Winnipeg.  We  were  compelled 
still  to  use  the  old  moose-skin  canoe,  as  none  of  the  birch  ones 
were  finished,  and  we  did  not  wish  to  remain  any  longer  at  Mouse 
River.  We  had  left  llie  trading-house  but  a  short  time,  when 
we  discovered  a  sliirg«on,  which,  by  some  accident,  had  got  into 
such  shoal  water,  on  a  sand-bar,  that  consitierable  |)art  of  his 
back  was  to  be  seen  above  the  surface.  I  jumped  out  of  the 
canoe.  ;ind  killed  him  with  little  ditlicnity :  and  as  this  was  the 
first  sturgeon  I  had  ever  taken,  the  <dd  woman  thought  it  neces- 
sary to  celtbratt'  the  feast  of  Oskenetahgawin,  or  first  fruits, 
though,  as  we  were  quite  alone,  we  had  no  guests  to  assist  us. 

The  month  of  the  Assinneboin  is  a  pla«'e  much  frequented  by 

*  A-gulcli-a-ninn£-iDug,  the  ticttlcil  [(eoplc,  called  by  the  whites  Minnetorcc;- 


nver, 
of  a  I 
out  to 
pnrsiKj 
pose, 
«ornr 
brou( 
we  pe 
Home 
ul)oiit 
J  Ukj 
ioiow, 
Jrightr 
in  abo 
we  (let 
liers  of 
whicli 
there  w 
Wit 
went  ( 
two  mc 


V> 


V    .m£^i 


lANNBR  .S    NARRATIVl 


.V.t 


■3 


tlio  Sioiix  wav-pavties,  wlierc  they  lie  concealed  and  lire  uj)oi> 
such  as  are  passing.  Wc  did  not  approach  this  place  until  dark, 
intending  to  pass  through  late  at  night;  it  was,  accordingly,  af- 
ter midnight,  when  carefully  avoiding  eitiier  shore,  we  floated 
silently  out  into  Red  River.  The  night  was  dark,  and  we  coidd 
not  discern  distinctly  any  ohj'>ct  on  shore ;  hut  we  ha<l  s<;arce 
cnlereil  Red  River,  when  the  silence  was  l)roken  hy  the  huoting" 
of  an  owl,  on  the  left  hunk  of  the  Assinnehoin.  This  was  quick- 
ly answered  hy  another  on  the  right  hank,  and  presently  by  a 
third  on  the  side  of  Red  River,  opposite  the  mouth.  Net-no-kwa 
said,  in  a  whisper  scarce  audible,  "  We  are  discovereil,"  and  di- 
rected to  put  th"  cat'  d)out,  with  the  utmost  silence.  In  obe- 
dience to  her  'Clio.  ?  ascended  with  (he  ■  ;  _.st  caution, 
»ndeavouring  to  keep  near  the  middle  of  Red  River.  I  was  in 
the  bow  of  the  canoe,  and  keeping  my  head  as  low  as  I  could,  I 
Avas  carefully  watching  the  surface  of  the  water  before  us,  hoping 
to  be  able  to  see  and  avoid  any  canoe,  or  other  object,  winch 
)night  approach,  when  I  saw  a  little  ripple  on  the  surface  of  the 
river,  following  a  low,  black  object,  which  I  took  to  be  the  head 
of  a  man,  swinuning  cautiously  across  before  us.  1  pointed  tiiis 
out  to  the  women,  and  it  was  inunediattdy  agreed  that  we  should 
pursue,  and,  if  possii)le,  kill  the  man  in  the  water.  For  this  pur- 
pose, a  strong  sturg(!on-spear  was  put  into  my  hand,  and  we 
commenced  the  pursuit ;  but  the  goose,  (for  it  was  one,  with  a. 
brood  of  young  ones,)  soon  became  alarmed,  and  Hew.  When 
we  perceived  our  mistake,  wc  retraced  our  way  up  the  river,  witir 
Momewhat  less  of  fear ;  but  could  by  no  means  venture  to  fur?i 
about,  and  go  on  our  way.  I  was,  I  remember,  vexed  at  what 
J  thought  the  groinidless  fears  of  the  women  ;  but  I  do  not 
know,  to  this  day,  whether  u  war-jiarty  of  Sioux,  or  three  owls, 
j'rightened  tis  back.  We  returned  several  miles,  and  expecting, 
in  about  ten  days,  that  the  traders  would  be  on  their  way  down. 
wc  determined  to  wait  for  them.  Here  we  caught  jrreat  nuui- 
}>crs  of  young  geese,  swiins,  and  ducks;  an<l  I  killed  an  elk, 
which,  as  it  was  my  first,  must  be  cidebrated  by  a  feast,  ihougli 
there  were  none  but  our  own  family  to  partake  of  it. 

With  the  traders  who  came,  according  to  our  expectation,  wn 
went  down  to  the  house  at  Lake  Winnipeg,  where  we  remained 
two  months.     When  they  were  about  to  return  to  tlie  Aysinne- 


LlMi 


i^./-'' 


:'W't' 


1'/ 


()U 


i'AXXER  S   NAUKATIV£. 


boin,  we  piiiThac-cd  a  bark  canoe,  and  accompanied  tliena.  W  e 
had  a  good  many  beaver  sUins,  and  Net-no-kwa  bouglit  a  keg  ol" 
mm  Avitb  some  of  tliem,  for  Pe-sliau-ba.  The  keg  held  about  live 
or  six  gaUons,  and  we  gave  six  beaver  skins  for  a  quart.  Many 
of  tbesc  beavers  I  had  taken  myself.  I  have  killeti  as  many  as 
one  hundred  in  the  course  of  a  month,  but  then  1  did  not  know 
Iho  value  of  them. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


-mi 


(:' 


Elk  Iiuntinfi — bcavrr  and  bniraloe  huntinji — cinlanarrcil  in  killinff  a  buflaloc  cow 
— i-'all  luiliiins — r  mm  to  Hainy  1-akr — Swnnip  |{i\er  iiixl  I'ortui^r — tho  Bcgvvi- 
ouiisko  lliwrand  Luki' — honesty  and  (iixul  (iiilli  in  the  intiTciursc  of  the  In- 
dians— hi)»iii(ality — suHbrings  tVoni  liun^in- — Ki-d  Rixcr — loss  of  packs — kuji- 
posi'il  dislioni'sly  of  tnidrrs— rapacity  of  tlio  trailers  of  the  N.  W.  company — 
ilisasters  foilo^^■ing  the  loss  of  onr  |ieltries. 

Tn  the  Assinneboin  river,  at  one  or  two  days  above  the 
Prairie  Portaoc,  is  a  place  r;dled  Ke-ncw-kau-neshe  Wiiy-boaiit. 
(where  they  throw  down  the  gray  eagle,)  at  wliieli  the  Indians 
frequently  slop.  Here  we  saw,  as  we  were  passing,  some  little 
stakes  in  the  i:;roiiiid,  with  pieces  of  birch  bark  attoched  to  them, 
and  on  two  of  these  the  ligtire  of  a  bear,  and  on  the  othtM-s,  those 
of  other  animals.  Net-no-k>Aa  imnieiiiately  recognized  the  to- 
tems of  Pe-shaii-ba,  Waiis-so,  and  their  companions.  These  had 
been  left,  to  inform  us  that  Pe-shau-ba  had  been  at  this  place,  and 
as  directions  to  enal)le  tis  to  lind  them.  We  therefore  left  the 
traders,  and  taking  the  course  itirlicated  by  the  marks  which  Pe- 
shiui-l)a  had  caused  to  be  made,  we  found  him  and  his  ])arty  at 
the  distance  of  two  days  from  the  river.  They  had  returned  tVom 
the  abortive  war  expedition,  to  the  trading  Jiouse  on  Mouse  River, 
finished  the  canoes  which  they  had  left  incomplete,  and  de- 
scended along  to  Kenewkauneshewavboaiit.  where,  knowing  there 
were  good  hunting  grounds,  they  had  determined  on  remaiiung. 
We  found  at  their  camp  plenty  of  game  ;  they  had  killed,  also,  a 
?reat  number  of  beavers.     About  this  place  elks  were  uunicrou,^, 


l\ 


H: 


/  ».       / 


•-  .w^^ 


XAXVi'T!  S    NAURATIVt. 


01 


:in(l  it  was  now  llio  nittinjr  sei.son.  I  rcmoinbrv  one  day,  Pe- 
sliaii-!)a  sent  mo  with  the  two  youiiitr  woimii,  ti>  l)riii<r  Home  incut 
jVom  an  elk  he  had  killed  at  some  distance.  The  women,  lindin"' 
that  the  elk  was  lar»^e  and  fat,  determined  on  remaiiiiiiir  lo  dry 
the  jural  liefore  lliey  carried  it  home.  [  took  a  load  of  meal,  and 
gtarled  for  home  l)y  myscil".  I  had  my  i^un  wiih  me,  and  per- 
rcivintf  there  were  plenty  of  elk,  I  loadetl  it.  and  roniealiiiir  my- 
self in  a  small  thicket  of  hushes,  heiran  to  imitate  the  call  of  the 
female  elk  ;  presently  a  larsie  hiick  came  houiidinir  so  directly 
towards  the  spot  where  I  was,  and  with  such  violence,  that  he- 
coming  alarmed  for  my  own  safety,  I  dropped  my  load  an'  fled; 
he  seeing  me,  tiirn(>il  and  ran  in  an  (ipposiie  direction.  Remem- 
bering that  the  Indians  would  ridicide  me  for  such  conduct,  i  de- 
termined to  make  another  attempt,  and  not  sutler  any  apprehen- 
sion for  my  own  safety  lo  he  the  causr-  of  another  failure.  So 
hiding  myself  again,  in  a  somewhat  more  carefully  chosen  place, 
I  repeated  my  call  from  time  lo  time,  till  at  length  another  huck 
came  up,  and  him  I  killed.  In  thi-;  maniuM-,  great  part  of  the 
day  had  i»een  consumed,  and  I  now  perceived  it  was  time  to  has- 
ten home  with  my  load. 

The  ohl  woman  becoming  uneasy  at  my  long  absence,  sent 
^Va-me-gon-a-biew  to  look  for  me.  He  <liscovered  me  as  I  was 
«-oniing  out  of  a  ])iece  of  woods  into  a  li.  ,e  prairie,  lie  had  on 
a  black  capot,  which,  when  he  saw  me,  he  turned  over  his  hciad 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  himself  reseinlde  a  hear.  At  first  I 
took  it  to  be  a  common  black  bear,  and  sought  a  chance  to  shoot 
liim ;  liiit  it  so  happened  tliat  h(>  was  in  su(di  a  situation  as  ena- 
bled bim  to  see  me,  and  I  knew  he  would  certainly  have  turned 
and  fled  from  me  hud  it  been  a  black  bear.  As  he  coiuinued  to 
advance  directly  towards  me,  1  goncluded  it  must  be  a  orizly 
hear,  so  I  turned  and  began  to  run  from  bim;  the  moie  suit'tly 
I  ran,  the  more  closely  he  seemed  to  I'ollow.  Tluiuifii  much 
frightened,  I  remeuii)ered  l*e-shaii-l)a's  advice,  never  to  fire  upon 
one  of  these  animals  unless  trees  were  near  into  '.vliich  I  could 
escape  ;  also,  in  case  of  being  pursued  by  om .  never  to  lir<'  until 
he  came  very  close  to  me.  'I'hree  times  I  Hirned,  and  raised  my 
piece  to  tire,  but  thinking  him  siill  too  far  olli  turned  and  run 
again.  Fear  must  have  bliiuled  my  eyes,  or  I  should  have  seen 
that  it  was  not  a  bear.     At  kiigili,  geiliuir  between  liiin  and  the. 


./'  -'-"■  fl^ 


» "i  A 


''■•i 


:"!{li 


♦W 


TANNKR  S    NAKKi>    IVL 


lodge,  I  ran  witli  sucli  speed  as  to  outstrij.  \,  when  I  lieard  a 
voice  behind  me,  which  I  knew  to  be  that  ol  Wa-me-gon-a-l)iew. 
I  h)oked  in  vain  for  the  bear,  and  he  soon  convinced  me  that  I 
owed  all  my  ternir  to  the  (Hsiriiise  which  he  had  effected,  with 
the  aid  only  of  an  old  biaciv  coat.  This  aH'air  being  related  to  ihi 
old  people  when  we  came  home,  they  reproved  Wa-me-jron-a- 
biew;  his  mother  telliiiir  him,  that  if  I  had  shot  him  in  that  dis- 
guise, I  should  have  done  riirlit,  and  according  to  the  custom  of 
the  Indians  she  could  have  found  no  faidt  with  me  for  so  doing. 
We  continued  here  huntinir  beaver,  and  killiuif  great  numbers, 
tnitil  the  ice  became  too  thick ;  we  then  went  to  the  prairies  in 
pursuit  of  bntiaioes.  When  the  snow  began  to  have  a  crust  upon 
it,  the  men  said  thoy  must  have  me  with  the  women,  as  they  were 
about  to  go  to  Clear  Water  Lake  to  nuike  canoes,  and  to  hunt 
beaver  on  their  way  down.  But  previous  to  their  going,  they 
said  they  would  kill  something  for  us  to  live  on  while  they  were 
gone.  Waus-so,  who  was  a  great  hunter,  went  out  by  himsell', 
and  killed  one  buftiiloe  ;  but  in  the  night  the  weather  became  ver)^ 
cold  and  stormy,  and  the  buffaloe  came  in  to  take  shelter  in  iho 
woods  where  we  had  our  camp.  Karly  in  the  morning,  Net-no- 
kwacalled  us  up,  saying,  there  was  a  large  herd  close  by  the  lodge. 
Pe-shau-ba  and  Waus-so,  w  ith  Wa-me-ffon-a-biew,  Sa-ning-wub, 
and  Sag-git-to,  crept  out,  and  took  stations  so  as  nearly  to  sur- 
round the  herd.  Me  they  would  not  suHer  to  go  out,  and  they 
laughed  at  me  when  they  saw  me  putting  my  gun  in  readiness  ; 
but  old  Net-no-gua,  who  was  ever  ready  to  befriend  me,  after  they 
were  gone,  led  nH>  to  a  stand  not  far  from  the  lodge,  near  which, 
her  sagacity  taught  her,  the  herd  would  probably  run.  The  In- 
dians fired,  but  all  failed  to  kill ;  the  herd  came  past  my  stand, 
and  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  kill  a  large  cow,  which  was  my 
first,  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  my  nH)ther.  Shortly  afterwards, 
liavinir  killed  a  considerable  number  of  buffaloes,  the  Indians  left 
lis :  myself,  the  old  W(»inan,  one  of  the  young  women,  and  three 
children,  six  in  all,  with  no  one  to  provide  for  them  but  myself, 
and  I  was  then  very  young.  Wc  dried  considerable  of  the  meat 
the  Indians  had  killed,  and  this  lasted  us  for  some  time;  but  I 
soon  found  that  I  was  able  to  kill  buffaloes,  and  for  a  long  time 
we  had  no  want  of  food.  In  one  instance,  an  old  cow  which  I 
had  woimded,  though  she  had  no  calf,  ran  at  rae,  and  I  was  barelv 


w. 


'■n 

H 


,•!' 


( 


XANNKR's    NARRATIVL. 


U3 


able  to  escape  from  her  by  climbing  into  a  tree.  She  was  enra- 
ged, not  so  much  by  the  wound  I  had  given  her,  as  by  the  dogs ; 
and  it  is,  I  believe,  very  rare  that  a  cow  runs  at  a  man,  unless  sh<? 
has  been  worried  by  dogs.  We  made  sugar  this  spring,  ten  miles 
above  Mouse  River  Fort.  About  this  time  I  was  much  endan- 
gered by  the  breaking  of  the  ice.  The  weather  had  l)ecome  mild, 
and  the  beavers  began  to  come  up  through  the  holes  on  lo  the 
ice,  and  sometimes  to  goon  shore.  It  was  my  practice  to  watch 
these  holes,  and  shoot  them  as  soon  as  they  caine  up :  once,  ha- 
ving killed  one,  I  ran  hastily  up  on  the  ice  to  get  him,  and  broke 
in;  my  snow  shoes  became  entangled  with  some  brush  on  tho 
bottom,  and  had  nearly  diagged  me  under,  but  by  great  exertion 
I  at  length  escaped.  Buflitloes  were  so  numerous  about  this 
place,  that  I  often  killed  them  with  a  bow  and  arrow,  though  I 
hunted  them  on  foot,  and  with  no  other  aid  than  thatof  dogs  well 
trained  and  accustomed  to  hunt. 

When  the  leaves  began  to  appear  upon  the  trees,  IV-shau-ba 
and  the  men  returned  in  birch  canoes,  bringing  many  beaver 
skins  and  other  valuable  peltries.  Old  Net-no-gua  was  now  anx- 
ious to  return  to  Lake  Huron,  as  was  Pe-shau-ba;  but  Waus-so 
and  Sa-niiig-wnb  would  not  return,  and  Pe-shau-ba  was  unwilling 
to  part  with  them.  Sag-git-'o  had  for  some  time  been  very  siek, 
having  a  large  ulcer  or  abscess  near  his  navel.  After  having  drank 
for  some  days,  he  luul  a  violent  pain  in  his  belly,  which  at  length 
swelled  ami  broke.  Pe-shau-ba  said  to  the  old  woman,  "it  is  not 
good  that  Sag-git-to  should  die  here,  at  a  distance  frcnn  all  his 
friends  ;  and  since  we  see  he  cannot  live  much  longer,  I  think  it 
best  for  you  to  take  him  and  the  little  children,  and  return  to 
Lake  Huron.  You  may  be  able  to  reach  the  rajiids,  [Saut  de  St. 
Marie,]  before  Sag-git-to  dies."  Conformably  to  this  advice,  our 
family  was  divided.  Pe-shau-ba,  Waus-so,  and  Sa-ninu-uub  re- 
mained; Net-no-kwa,and  the  two  other  women,  with  Sag-git-to, 
Wa-me-gou-a-biew,  and  myself,  with  a  little  girl  the  old  woman 
had  bought,  and  three  little  children,  started  to  return  to  Lake 
Huron.  The  little  girl  was  brought  from  the  country  of  tho 
Bahwetego-weninnewug,  th(!  Fall  liulians,  by  a  war  party  of 
Ojibbeways,  from  whom  Net-no-kwa had  beught  her.  The  Fall 
Indians  live  near  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  wander  nuich  with 
the  Black  Feet ;  thcii  language  being  unlike  that  of  botli  the  Si- 


( 


. — :zi-» 


'i 


I   M 


U 


TANNKR  S    NAHRATH  C. 


mix  anJ  the  Ojibboways.  These  last,  ami  the  Crees,  are  move 
friomlly  with  the  Mlack  Feet,  than  they  are  with  llie  Fall  Indians. 
Tlie  little  Bahwetifi  n'ld  lliat  Nel-mi-Ixwa  had  IxMii-ht.  was  now 
ten  years  of  a;ire,  but  liaviii"  been  sonic  liino  amonj;-  the  Ojibbc- 
ways,  h  ul  learned  their  laiiiiiKiire. 

When  we  eaine  to  Kaiiiy  Lake,  we  had  ten  packs  of  beaver  of 
forty  skins  eaeli.  Net-no-kwasoid  some  otlier  peltries  for  riini, 
and  was  drunk  for  a  liay  or  two.      We  here  met  ^oine  of  the  tra- 


iler s  eanoei 


on 


their  way  to  Red   River  ; 


anil 


Wa- 


nie-tton-a- 


biew,  who  was  now  eiifhieen  years  old,  bein^  iiiuvilling  to  return 


to  Lii 


il 


uroii,  lU 


terniined    to  1:0   baek   to  the  north  with  the 


trader's  people.  Tlie  old  woman  said  inueh  lo  dissuade  hiin, 
but  he  jumped  into  one  of  the  eaiioes,  as  they  were  about  lo  start 
otl,  and  allhoiiirh,  at  the  re(juest  of  the  old  woman,  they  endea- 
voured to  driv(>  him  out,  lie  wouhl  not  leav<'  the  canoe.  Net-no- 
kwa  was  much  distressed,  buteould  not  make  u])  her  mind  to  lose 


h 


ler  only  son:  sln^  determined  on  retunnnii  wi 


ith  hit 


The  packs  of  bejiver  slie  wouhl  not  leav(;  vvitji  the  traders,  not 
having  sudicient  eonlidence  in  their  honesty.  Wt;^  therefore  took 
ihein  to  a  remote   jjlaee  in   the  woods,   h  here  we  made  a   sunjc- 


irwun,  or  dejiosite,  in  tbe  usual   mannei 


il 


We  then  returned  to 


ihe  Lake  of  tlie  Woods.  From  this  lake  the  Liidians  iiave  a  road, 
10  go  to  Red  River,  which  the  white  men  never  follow  ;  this  is 
])y  the  way  of  the  Muskeek,  or  swamp  carryinir  place.  We  went 
up  a  river  which  the  Indians  call  Miiskeego-ne-guni-me-we-sec- 
bee,  or  Swamp  River,  for  several  days  ;  we  then  diagired  our 
canoes  across  a  swamp  ("or  one  day.  This  swamp  is  only  of 
moss  and  some  small  bushes  on  the  lop  of  the  uater,  so  that  it 
quakes  to  a  great  disliince  as  people  walk  over  it.  Then  we  put 
our  canoes  into  a  small  stream,  which  they  called  Heuwionusk, 
from  the  begwionusk,  or  <'ow  parsley,  which  grows  upon  it :  this 
we  descended  into  a  small  Sahkiemni,*  i-alled  by  the  same  name. 
This  pond  has  no  more  than  two  or  three  feet  of  water,  and  great 
part  of  it  is  not  one  foot  deep ;  but  at  this  time  its  surface  was 


'<  i,-?!l 


*  Liikesof  the  iarficst  class  are  callud  by  the  Oltawwaws,  Khchcgawnic ;  of  these 
tlipy  reckon  five ;  01m  which  they  commonly  call  OjiblK-way  Kitcheirawnie,  Lake 
.Superior,  two  Ollnwwinv  Kitclie<»;i\vtiip,  Huron  ioul  .Micliiiriin,  aiiil  Krie  and  On- 
lurio.  l.ake  Wiai)ijM'>:,  and  the  countless  lakes  in  the  nortli-west,  they  call  .Satt- 
kiesiumun. 


^H^. 


#-» 


^-K 


i'ANNRK:^    NARKATIVI.. 


05 


e  went 
c-see- 

rcd  GUI' 

inly  ol' 
tliul  it 

wo  put 
piuisk, 

it :  this 
ii;iino. 

1 1  i;iTat 

ict;  was 

of  these 

nic,  Lake 

iiiiil  On- 

:h11  Sah- 


lovered  with  thirks,  jrpcsr,  swans,  and  other  liinls.  IFere  we  re- 
inained  a  lon^  time,  and  niado  four  packs  of  i)eaver  skins.  When 
the  leuvcs  bejran  to  fall,  Sag-jfit-to  died.  We  were  now  quite 
alone,  no  Indians  or  white  men  being  within  four  or  five  days' 
ioiirney  from  us.  Here  we  had  packs  to  deposite,  as  we  wero 
about  to  h:ave  the  country ;  and  the  ground  l)eing  too  swampy 
to  admit  of  burying  them  in  the  usual  manner,  we  made  a  sunjc- 
gwun  of  logs,  so  tight  that  a  mouse  could  not  enter  it ;  in  which 
we  left  all  our  packs  and  other  j)r(»periy,  which  wc  could  not 
carry.  If  any  of  tiu-  Indians  of  this  distant  region,  had  found  it 
in  our  absence,  tliey  would  not  have  broken  it  up  ;  and  we  did 
not  fear  that  the  traders  would  penetrat*'  to  so  poor  and  solitary 
a  place.  Indians  who  live  remote  from  the  whites,  have  not 
learned  to  value  their  peltries  so  highly,  that  they  will  be  guilty 
of  stealing  them  from  each  other;  and  at  the  ti>.  e  of  which  I 
speak,  and  in  the  country  where  I  Avas,  I  have  often  known  u 
hunter  leave  his  traps  for  many  days,  in  the  woods,  without  visis 
ing  them,  or  feeling  any  anxiety  about  their  safety.  It  wf.:'l(l 
often  happen,  that  one  man  having  finished  his  hunt,  and  left  his 
traps  behind  him,  another  would  say  to  him,  '•  I  am  going  to  liunt 
in  such  a  direction,  where  are  your  traps?"  When  he  has  nsed 
them,  another,  and  sometimes  four  or  five,  take  them  in  si  .;c«  s- 
sion  ;  but  in  the  end,  they  are  sure  to  return  to  th(>  right  ov  ,ier. 
When  the  snow  had  fallen,  and  the  weather  began  to  be  cold, 
so  that  we  could  no  longer  kill  beaver,  we  began  to  suffer  from 
hunger.  Wa-me-gon-a-bicw  was  now  our  princi])al  dependancc, 
and  he  exerted  himself  greatly  to  supply  our  wants.  In  one  oi" 
his  remote  excursions  in  jnirsuit  of  game,  he  met  with  a  lodge  of 
Ojibbe.ways,  who,  though  they  had  plenty  of  meat,  and  knew  that 
he  and  hi^  friends  were  in  distress,  gave  him  nothing  except  what 
he  wanted  to  eat  at  night.  He  remained  with  them  all  nighi, 
and  in  the  morning  started  for  home.  On  his  way  he  killed  a 
young  Moose,  which  was  extremely  poor.  Wb-a  this  small  sup- 
ply was  exhausted,  we  were  compelled  to  g.*  a"  I  encamp  with 
the  inhospitable  people  whom  Wa-me-gon-a-biow  had  seen.  Wo 
found  them  well  supplied  with  meat,  but  whatever  we  procured 
from  them,  was  in  exchange  for  our  orna;;'vnts  of  silver,  or  other 
articles  of  value.  I  mention  the  nigv  tr.iliness  and  inhospitality 
of  these  people,  because  1  had  not  before  met  with  such  an  in* 

9 


^1 


V 


-V 


->*>-«i«Hk8#  :.(|i('lP«->hi»., 


.^»SSP5JM11«"*IS*»*" 


■<ll«< 


66 


TANSF.n  S    NAnRATIVE. 


stancr  amonp  tlin  Indians.  Tlicv  aro  ronunonly  rrady  to  divid<' 
what  provisions  thry  hiivc,  with  any  who  conic  to  thcin  in  need. 
Wc  had  been  about  tlircc  days  with  these  Indians,  when  they 
liilU^l  two  Moose.  Thcv  calh'd  Wa-nie-fron-a-biew  and  nic  to  go 
after  meal,  l)u(  oidy  ifa\e  us  the  poorest  part  ot  one  h'tr.  VV<; 
bonijht  some  fat  meat  Iroiii  thcrn,  ffivin^r  tliein  our  silver  orna- 
ments. The  patience  of  oM  i\el-no-kM  a  Avas  at  lenirlh  exhausted, 
and  she  forhach"  ns  all  lo  purchase  any  thinir  more  fmin  tlieni. 
Durin^r  all  ihe  lime  we  remaitierl  with  these  peoph'.  we  were  sui- 
ferinfj  almost  the  exirrniily  of  hun<ier.  One  morning  Net-no-kwa 
rose  very  early,  and  tyinjjf  on  licr  blanket,  took  her  hatchet  and 
Avent  out.  She  did  not  return  ihat  niijht;  but  tlie  luxt  day,  to- 
wards eveninjf.  iis  we  were  all  lyinir  down  inside  the  lod^e,  she 
ranie  in,  and  shakinjj  Wa-nu-uon-a-biew  by  the  shoulder,  said  to 
him,  "f!;et  up,  my  son.  ytni  arr  a  jrreal  runner,  and  now  let  >is  see 
with  what  speed  you  will  <ro  and  briuir  'li<'  iTi»'at  whw  h  the  (treat 
SS|)irit  ^ave  me  last  niirht.  Nearly  all  nijrht  I  prayed  and  sunjr, 
and  when  i  fell  asleep  near  morniiiir,  the  Sjiirit  came  lo  me,  and 
jjrave  mo  a  bear  to  feed  my  hun^rry  children.  You  will  lind  him  in 
that  little  copse  of  bushes  in  tlu'  prairie.  (Jo  immediately,  the 
bear  will  nol  run  from  yon.  e\t'n  shoidd  he  see  you  coming  u|).'" 

"  No,  my  mother,"  said  Wa-me-fion-a-biew,  '*  it  is  now  iicav 
•-veniufr :  the  sun  will  soon  set,  and  it  will  imt  be  easy  to  fmd  tlir 
Irack  in  the  snow.  In  the  morniiifj  Shaw-shaw-wa  ne-ba-si; 
^hall  lake  a  blanket,  and  a  small  kettle,  and  in  the  course  of  the 
Hay  I  may  overtake  ihe  bear  and  kill  him,  ami  my  little  brother 
will  come  up  willi  my  blanket,  and  we  can  spend  ihe  night  where 
I  Hhall  kill  him." 

The  old  Woman  did  not  yield  to  the  opinion  of  ihe  liunler.  Al- 
tercation and  loud  Winds  followed  :  fur  \N  a-me-^on-a-biew  had 
little  reverence  for  his  molhei,  and  as  scarce  any  oilier  Indian 
wonid  h:ive  done,  he  ridiculed  her  pretensions  to  nii  inlercnurse 
with  the  (ireat  Spirit,  and  particularly,  for  havini;  said  that  the 
hear  w<nild  not  run  if  he  saw  hunters  coniimr.  The  old  woman 
was  olUnded  ;  and  after  reproachinir  her  son,  she  went  out  of  the 
lod^e,  and  told  tlie  other  Indians  her  dream,  and  directed  lliem  lo 
the  pliice  where  sln-miid  the  bear  would  certainly  be  found.  They 
aj{;rerd  with  Wa-me-fjon-a-biew,  llinl  it  wan  too  late  lo  go  that 
iiijrlit  ;  but  aw  lltev  had  I'ontitlencr  in  the  prayers  of  iIm^  old  wo- 


,«,■ 


--^^ 


TANNKR  .S    NARRATIVI 


61 


U'v.  AI- 
»i(>\v  liatl 
■   liiiliau 
•iciiiirsi! 
ilijil   Un" 
woiiiiiii 
It  n{  tlir 
tlwni  Id 
.  i'lMy 
no  thut 
(»l<i  wit- 


)riuii,  ihcy  lt»st  no  time  in  I'nlldwiiijL;  lier  diroclion  lU  ilio  ^'rll•lie^^t 
ippi-arancr  of  lijjlit  in  the  iiKimiiiir.  'I'licv  Conml  llic  Inar  al  llu- 
place  nlie  luul  indicated,  and  killed  il  w  itlwMK  dillicidty.  He  wa^ 
laiu<'  and  fal.  Init  VVa-in<'-yi»n-a-l)ie\v,  wlioai  roinpanied  lluni,  re- 
ceived iinl\  a  small  |)iece  tor  the  poitinn  ul'  our  tamilv.  The  oiil 
woman  was  anirry,  and  not  witinnit  just  cause;  tor  althouoh  she 
pretended  that  ilie  hear  had  liOi-n  {riven  her  hy  the  (Jreat  Spirit, 
and  the  place  where  lie  lay  pointed  out  to  her  in  u  dreuni,  the 
truth  was,  she  had  tracked  him  into  the  little  thicket,  and  then 
i'ir<-]ed  it,  to  see  lliiil  lie  had  mil  ^oiie  out.  Artifices  ol  this  kind, 
to  iiiake  her  people  helieve  she  had  inlerctHirse  with  the  Great 
.*     irit,  were,  I  think,  repeatedly  assay<'d  hy  her. 

Our  suH'erintf  from  lnmu:er  now  compelled  us  lo  move  ;  ami 
:ifler  we  had  eaten  our  small  portion  of  the  I'ear,  we  started  on 
^iiow  shoes  to  jfo  to  Keil  Uiver;  hopiiij;  lillier  lo  iiieel  smne  In- 
dians, or  to  finil  some  irame  <mi  llu'  way.  I  hud  now  hecoine  ac- 
tpiainted  vtith  the  method  of  takini;  rahhits  in  snares  :  nml  when 
^\('  ari'ive<l  al  our  first  camp,  I  ran  forwar<l  on  the  route  I  knew 
we  should  lake  oii  tlii'  f(dluwin<r  day.  and  placed  several  snares, 
inti'iidinir  to  look  at  them,  and  lake  llieni  up  iis  we  went  on  our 
jonrmy.  Alter  we  had  supped,  for  when  »euer<'  in  want  of 
provisi(ms  we  eommoiiU  ale  only  at  evellillL^  all  the  food  we  had 
icmainiiiii,  was  a  cpiarl  or  inor<-  ol'  liear's  iirease  in  ii  kettle.  It  was 
now  fro/en  hard,  and  the  kettle  had  a  piece  of  skin  tied  over  il 
as  a  cover.  In  the  iiiornin<r,  this,  ainoii(r  other  articles,  was  put 
on  my  sled,  ami  I  went  torward  to  look  at  uiy  snares.  Finding 
one  rahliil.  I  tliouohi  f  would  surprise  mv  motlier,  to  make  u 
luutfh  :  >^o  I  took  the  ral)liit,  and  put  him  ali\e  under  the  cover 
of  iho  kettle  of  henr's  frrease.  Al  iii^lil,  after  we  had  encamped,  I 
watched  her  when  she  w«'iil  lo  open  tlie  kettle  lo  ml  us  somelhiii!; 
to  eiit.  expeclimr  llie  rahhil  would  jump  out  :  hut  was  much  dis- 
appoinled  lo  find,  that  iiolw  ith>laiidiii<r  the  extreme  cold  weather, 
llu-  yreas 


e  was    dissidted,  and   the  little  animal  nearly  drowned. 


The  old  wom.iii  scolded  me  lery  severely  al  the  lime;  hut  for 
inanv  yeais  afterwards,  she  used  lo  talk  and  laui>li  of  this  ralihil, 
and  his  a|ipearaiice  when  she  opened  the  kettle.  She  cdiitinned 
also  lo  talk,  as  Umg  as  she  lived,  of  the  iii(>t>ardly  conduct  of  llio 
Indians  we  had  then  seen.  After  travelling  some  dayn,  we  ilis- 
covfreil  irnces  of  hunters,  and  were  at  ien^lh  so  forUinalc  a"  to 


»•  * 


6» 


VNNCli  S    \AKKA  H\  I 


w 


\ 


m 


%■ 


Jlnd  the  head  ol'a  biillalot'  wliicli  tliey  hml  loCt.  This  relieved  us 
iVoin  tli<>  distress  of  hiirifrer,  and  we  lollowed  on  in  liuir  trail, 
until  we  came  to  (he  cncanijjnient  of  some  ol  our  friends  on  Ked 
River. 

This  was  a  considerable  band  of  Crees,  under  a  chief  raliv^d 
Assin-ne-boi-nainse,  (ihe  Little  Assinneboin,)  and  his  son-in-law, 
Sin-a-[)eir.;i-ijriiii.     They  n't'cived  us  in  a  very  cordial  and  friend- 
ly manner,   ifave  us  |)lenty  to  eat,  aiul  supplied    all   our    urjfent 
wants.     Alter  we  had  remained  with  them  about  two   months, 
butlaloc  and  other  game  became  scirce,  and  the  whole  encamp- 
ment was  sntlerinir  from   hunffer.     Wa-me-iron-a-biew  and  my- 
self started   (o   cross  the  prairie,  one  day's  journey,  to  a  stream 
called  I'ond  Kivcr.      We  found  an  old  bull,  so  poor  and  olil  thai 
hair  would  not  jrrow  upon  him  ;  we  could   eal  only  the  ton^rue. 
SVp  had  travelled  very  far,  iu  the  course   of  the  d!.y,  and  were 
much   overcome     with    faliuue ;    the    wind    was    hijrh,    and    the 
snow  driviuy  violently.     In  a  vast  extent  ot  the  plain,  which  w<' 
overlooked,  \\v  could  set*  nt)  wood,   but  some  snutll  oak  bushes. 
;«earce   a<  hijj;h  as  a  num's  slmulderM ;  but  in  this  poor  cov«'r  we 
were  ciimjxiled  to  encamp.     The   small  and  {rn-en  stalks  of  the 
oaks  were,   with    the  utmost  ilidirullv,  kindled,  and  made    but  a 
j)oor  (ire.      When  liie  lire  had  remained  some  lime  in  oe.e  place, 
and    the  ground   imder   it   become    dry,  we    rennived  (he  brands 
and  coals,  and    la\  down  upon  the  warm  ashes.     We  spent  tin 
nisfht  without  -^h  ep,  and  the  n<'xt  inctrninir.  thoiiifh  the  weather 
had  bec(Mue   more  severe,  tlu'  wind    haviin;  risen,   we  suirted  to 
11  turn  home.     It  was  a  hard  day's  Malk,  and,  as  we  were  weak 
through  hunjfer  and  cold,  it  was  late  when  we  reached  the  lod>re. 
As  we   approached  hcune,  Wa-me-iron-'t-biew  was  more   aide  to 
walk  fa-*t  llian  I  was.    and  as  he   turned  back    to   look  at  me,  W( 
peri-eived,  at  the  same  time,  that  each  <il    iiur  lacr^  were  fro/cn. 
When  wo  came   nearly  in  siitlit  of  home,   as  I   was  notable  to 
walk  nuich  farther,  he  left  ine,  and  went  to  the  lodire,  and  >ent 
.>^ome  of  the  wcimen  to   help   me  to  jfet  huine.     Our  hands  and 
liices   were    much    fro/en  ;   but  as  we  'md  jriiod    moccasins,  our 
feel  were  not  at  all  injured.     Ak  himi;er  continued  in  the  camp, 
we  fnuiul  it  necessary  to  separate,  and  i(o  in  difl'erent  directions. 
N<t-nokwa  determined   tt>  f(n  with   her   fanuly  to  tlii^'tfhdinp;- 
houHf  of  Mr.  Henry,  who  was  since  drowned  in  the  Cohiinbia 


II' 


■^m^^"'^^^ 


lANNERS    NAURATlVl. 


m 

irheri 


Ilivcr,  by  the  upsetting  ol  a  boat.  1  his  place  is  near  that  wbero 
a  spttli'iiifiit  has  since  been  made,  called  Pembina.  Willi  tho 
i)eople  of  lln'  I'ur-lraders,  we  bunted  all  llie  reiaaimler  of  the 
Aviiiter.     In   (be    sprinjr   "«'    returned,    in  company    «itli   these 


lod: 


res   o 


f  Indians,    to  lIn'  lake  where  we    li;iii    leli    onr  canooi 


We  found  all  out  property  sale,  and  baviiifr  yol  all  (oiielber 
from  our  snniejrwniis,  and  all  that  we  h.id  broiiLHil  from  Red 
River,  we  bad  now  eleven  packs  of  beaver,  of  forty  skins  eacb, 
and  ten  packs  of  oiher  skins.  It  was  now  onr  intention  to  re- 
finti  to  Lake  llnron,  and  to  dispose  of  our  |>('ltries  at  Vlackinur. 
We    bad  still    ihe  larije  sniijeuwiin   at  Hainy  Lake,  llie  c(mtentK 


of  whicli,    added  to 


.11 


we   no 


w  bad,  would  have  been  sutlicient 


to  make  IIS  weallliN.  It  will  be  it'colbctrd,  that  in  a  former 
seasmi,  Net-no-kwa  had  inaile  a  de|iosii  ol  \aliiable  furs,  near  the 
Iradcr'H  bouse,  on  Kainy  Luke,  not  baviiiii  confidence  emnijrh  in 
Ihe  honesty  of  the  lrad<'i.  to  leave  them  in  bis  care.  When  we 
returned  'o  this  spot,  we  found  the  simjei:wun  had  been  broken 
up,  and  not  a  pack,  or  a  skin,  lefl  in  it.  We  saw  a  pack  in  the 
Irader's  bouse,  which  \\v  believed  to  !)«•  one  of  our  own  ;  but  we 
«()uld  netcr  ascertain  wliether  ihev    or  ■^niiie  Indians,   bad  taken 


tlicin. 


The  old  woman  was  iiiiirh  irritaleil.  and  did  not  iiesilHlc 


1oa«'ribe  (be  tbel't  to  ibe  tr.ider. 


When  we  reacheil  the 


-ma 


II    house,  at   the    oih<'r  side  of  the 


(Jrnnd  Portatre  to  Lake  Superior,  tlie  people  belonLnnc  to  the 
traders  urirt'd  us  to  put  our  packs  in  the  wagons,  and  have  iheiu 
carried  across.  Itiit  the  old  woman.  kiiowiuL'  if  they  wi-re  (Mice 
in  the  bands  of  the  Iradern,  ii  would  be  ditlicnll,  if  not  impossi- 
ble, for  her  to  gel  them  again,  refused  to  comply  with  this  re- 
ipn-st.  It  took  us  several  ilays  to  carry  all  our  packs  across,  us 
the  old  woman  woiilii  not  sntfer  Ibeni  to  be  carried  in  the  iiad<T's 
roail.  Nolw  itbslandino  all  this  caution,  when  wr  c. one  In  ibis 
f-ide  the  portage,  M;.  Nl'<iil\tray  ami  Mr.  Sb»bbo\ea,  by 
Ireuting  her  with  much  attentiun,  ami  i>iving  her  some  wine,  in< 
dnced  her  lo  place  all  Iht  packs  in  a  room,  which  ihev  gav«<  her 
to  occupy.  At  first,  ihev  endeavoured,  by  friendlv  sidicitation, 
to  induce  her  lo  sell  her  furs;  hut  fimliiiLf  she  wns  determined 
not  lo  part  «ilh  ihem,  ihe\  ibrealened  her;  and  at  lenulb,  a 
young  man.  the  -on  of  Mr.  Shabboyea,  atlem|)|ed  lo  lake  llietii 
1>v  fuiTti ;  but  the  olil  luun   iutcrfvrej.  and  oriierinu  his  oun  to 


i 


!^ 


•/A 


70 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVE. 


I'-:)  ,1 


'!*•: 


l!j 


desist,  reproved  liim  for  his  violence.  Thus  Net-no-kwa  vva.s 
enabled,  for  the  present,  to  keep  poss(!ssion  of  her  property,  and 
might  have  done  so,  perhaps,  until  we  should  have  reached 
Mackinac,  had  it  not  been  for  the  obstinacy  of  one  of  her  own 
family.  W<^  had  not  been  many  days  at  the  Portaj^e,  before 
there  arrived  a  man  called  Bit-K  -gish-sho,  (the  crookcil  light- 
ning,) who  lived  at  Middle  Lake,*  acconipaiued  l)y  his  small 
band.  With  these  people  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  became  intimate, 
and  though  none  of  us,  at  that  time,  knew  it,  he  formed  an  at- 
tachment for  one  of  the  daughters  of  the  Crooked  Li  rhtning. 
^Vhen  we  bad  made  all  our  prt-parations  to  start  for  the  Saut  of 
St.  Marie,  and  the  l)aggage  was  in  the  canoe,  Wa-me-gon-a-l)iew 
was  not  to  be  found.  We  sought,  in  every  direction,  tor  him, 
nnd  it  was  nSt  until  after  some  days,  that  we  heard  by  a  French- 
man, that  he  was  on  the  other  side  the  Portage,  with  the  family 
of  Bit-le-gisli-sho.  1  was  sent  for  him ;  l)ut  could  b\  no  means 
induce  iiini  to  return  with  me.  Knowing  his  idislinacy,  the  old 
woman  lictran  to  cry.  *'  If  I  had  but  two  children,"  said  she, 
•' I  could  be  willing  to  lose  this  one ;  hulas  1  have  no  other. 
I  must  go  with  him."  fShe  gave  to  the  widow,  her  sister's 
daughter,  but  who  had  liveil  with  her  from  a  child,  five  |)acks  of 
beaver,  one  of  which  was  for  her  own  use;  the  remaining  four 
pHcks,  together  with  sixty  otter  skins,  she  told  her  to  take  to 
Mackinac,  and  deliver  them  according  to  her  din'ction.  .She 
came  d(»wn  in  the  trader's  canoe,  anil  delivered  them  to  Mr.  La- 
jjomboise,  ol  the  North  West  Company,  ami  look  his  due  bill,  as 
she  was  lidd  it  was,  for  the  amount.  Hut  this  paper  was  snb.sc- 
(pientlv  lost,  by  the  burniiig  of  our  lodg«>,  and  from  that  day  to 
this,  Nei-no-kwa,  or  any  of  her  family,  hav*'  not  nreived  the 
value  of  a  c«'nt  lor  those  skins.  The  old  woman,  beinir  much 
dissatislieil  at  the  mi  oiiducl  ol  her  son,  the  disappointment  id' 
lier  hopes  of  returning  to  Lake  Huron,  and  other  misforlunes, 
began  to  ilrink.  In  the  cinirsr  of  a  ninglv  dai/,  s/ir  snld  itin: 
huiidnii  and  twnitij  hruvir  skins,  with  o  lar:S'  ifutintity  iif  hiif- 
falin'  nihrs,  drrssrd  nnd  snutkid  skins,  and  other  articirs,  for 
nun.  It  was  her  habit,  whenever  she  drank,  to  nnike  drunk  all 
the  lndiKn.s  about  her,  at  least  as  fur  an  her  incanM  would  extend. 

*  Naw-wc-Mh-kie-gujJ. 


I     '. 


V  i  V 


W«r 


TANNER  P    NARRATIvr, 


71 


Of  all  our  large  load  of  peltries,  the  produce  of  so  many  days  of 
toil,  of  so  many  longr  and  difTieull  journeys,  one  blanket,  and 
three  kegs  of  rum,  only  remained,  beside  the  poor  and  almost 
Avorn-out  eloathing  on  our  bodies.  I  did  not,  on  this  or  any 
other  occasion,  witness  the  needless  and  wanton  waste  of  our 
peltries,  and  other  property,  with  that  indillerence  which  the  In- 
dians seemed  always  to  feel. 

Our  return  beiuff  determined  on,  we  started,  with  Rit-te-jrish- 
sho  and  some  other  Indians,  for  tlic  Kukv  of  tin;  Woods.  They 
assisted  us  in  making  a  canoe,  crossing  portages,  &,c.  At  the 
Lake  of  the  Woods  we  were  overtaken  by  coltl  weather,  and 
Net-no-kwa  determined  to  remain,  though  most  of  the  others 
went  on.  Here  it  was  found  that  the  atlacliment  of  Wa-me-jron- 
a-hiew  to  the  daughter  of  Hit-le-gish-sho,  was  not  too  strong  to 
be  broken ;  and,  iiuleed,  it  is  somewhat  doubtlul  whether  the 
anxiety  of  the  traders  at  the  (irand  Portage,  to  possess  them- 
selves of  our  packs,  had  not  as  much  to  do  in  ocrasioning  our 
return,  as  any  thing  on  the  part  of  this  ycning  man. 

After  these  people  had  left  us,  we  fomul  our  condition  too 
desolate  and  hopeless  to  remain  by  mirselves,  illy  provi(h>d  as 
we  were  for  the  coming  winter.  So  we  re|)aired  to  Hainy  Lako 
trading-house,  where  we  <»l)tained  a  credit  to  thi'  ainomit  of  one 
humlred  and  twenty  beaver  skins,  and  thus  ftirnished  ourselves 
with  some  blankets,  clothiiiii;,  ami  other  things  necessary  fof 
the  winter.  Here  a  man  joined  us,  called  Waw-be-be-nais-sa, 
who  proposed  to  hunt  for  us,  and  assist  us  through  the  winter. 
We  acceiled  cheerfully  to  his  proposal ;  but  soon  f<nmd  he  was 
hut  a  pour  Imutur,  as  1  wha  always  able  to  kill  mure  thuii  he  did. 


imt/M 


n 


tanner's  NAUBATIVt. 


i  ill  hi 


f.uf; 


CHAPTER  V. 


\'    I 


.(*  W 


W'' 


ll 


I'j. 


Medicine  hunting — indnleiico  of  an  Indian  liunter,  and  ooiigcc^uent  sufTcring  oi' 
his  family — rclii-t'  iVoin  hiiiiiHnc  tradors — a  tninlcr  amputates  his  own  arm — 
luoosc  rhasc — lii).s|iitalitv  ul  Suli-inuk,  and  ri'siiK'nc(!  ai  llainy  Lako^arcaso 
of  a  imdalotM'ow  wiiti'iicd  liy  a  hull — .scmtc  tiullL-hiig  from  cold — luj  lodge, 
and  most  of  my  iiroix'rly,  dtstroyt'd  hy  lire. 

With  the  deep  snow  ami  lliick  ice,  came  poverty  ami  liiinger. 
We  were  no  longer  able  to  take  l)ea\er  in  traps,  or  by  the  or- 
dinary metliodn,  or  kill  nioose,  llioujrli  llure  were  son)e  in  the 
country.  It  was  not  uiilii  our  .sulitrinjrs  t'rom  hunger  began  to 
be  extreme,  that  the  old  woman  had  recourse  to  the  expedient  of 
spentlinga  night  in  prayer  and  singing.  In  the  morning  she  said 
to  her  son  and  Waw-lu -he-nais-sa,  "(J(j  and  hunt,  for  the  (Jreat 
Spirit  has  given  me  some  meat."  Utit  Wd-me-gon-a-biew  ob- 
jected, as  he  said  the  weather  was  too  cold  and  calm,  and  no 
moose  could  be  aj)proached  so  near  as  to  shoot  him.  "  I  can 
make  a  wind,"  answered  Net-no-kwa/'and  ihougli  it  is  now  still 
and  cold,  the  warm  wind  shall  come  helure  night,  (io,  my  sons, 
you  cannot  fail  to  kill  soim-thing,  lor  in  my  dream  I  saw  Wa- 
nie-gon-a-biew  coming  into  the  lodtre  with  a  beaver  and  a  large 
ioa<l  of  meal  on  his  back."  At  length  they  started,  having  sus- 
pended at  their  heads,  and  on  their  shot  pouches,  the  little  sacks 
ol"  medicine,  which  the  (dd  woman  had  provided  for  them,  with 
the  assurance  that,  having  them,  the\  could  not  possibly  fail  of 
success.  They  had  not  been  a  long  time  absent,  when  the  wind 
rose  from  the  south,  and  scum  blew  hii>h,  the  weather,  at  the 
same  time,  bccominif  waritier.  At  nii>lil,  lliev  returned,  loaded 
with  the  llesh  of  a  fat  moose,  and  Wa-nu-gon-a-biew  witli  ii 
beaver  on  his  back,  as  the  old  woman  had  seen  him  in  her  dreum. 
As  the  moose  was  very  large  and  fat,  we  m(»ved  our  lodge  to  it, 
and  maile  preparations  tor  drying  the  meat.  This  supply  ul  our 
wants  was,  however,  only  lem|)orary,  though  we  found  u  few 
beaver,  and  succetided  in  killing  soum'.  Afti'r  about  ten  days  we 
were  again  in  «ant  of  food.     As  1  wad  one  day  hunting  for 


ri 


of  the 
I  did  so 
Iiaving 
draff  the 
and  our 
tne-gon- 
help  nic 
woidd  n( 
small  sui 
of  some 
Water 
our  lodiTf 
Mich  arti( 
^rndiuir-i, 


'*    ' 


J 


f- 


-    W3»^ 


ly  soil;', 
Wa- 
lurgo 

(•  sacks 
1,  with 
lail  of 
\v  winil 
r,  at  lilt' 
loadt'fl 
witli  a 
tlrcuiii. 
t£e  to  it, 
y  ol  oui 
(1  a  few 
•lays  wo 


I AXNEH  S    NARIlATIVl.. 


73 


tipaveis,  at  some  clislaiicc  (Voiii  our  lodirc,  I  (uimd  ilu'  tracks  of 
I'dur  moose,  I  hroko  olF  the  lop  of  a  husli,  on  \viii(  h  ihcj  had 
Ixu'ii  hrowsiiitr,  and  carried  it  ho»ic.  On  (MUeriiiu  llic  lodf^c,  I. 
threw  it  down  heCore  VV^aw-be-bc-nais-sa,  who  was  Ivinir  by  iho 
fire,  in  bis  usual  iii(b)hMit  manner,  sayinir,  "  Look  at  this,  jrood 
liunter,  and  <ro  and  kill  us  some  moose."  lie  took  up  tlio 
branch,  and  biokinuf  at  it  a  moment,  he  said,  "  How  many  arc 
there?"  I  answered,  "  lour."  He  rephed,  "  1  must  kill  them." 
Early  in  the  nu»rniii(r  he  started  on  my  road,  and  killed  three 
of  the  moose.  He  was  a  u^(»od  hunter,  when  he  could  rouse  hini- 
.self  to  exertion  ;  but  nu)st  of  the  lime  he  was  so  lazy  that  he  choso 
to  starve  rather  tlian  ^o  far  to  find  <raine,  or  to  rim  after  it,  when 
it  was  found.  We  had  now  a  short  season  of  plenty,  but  soou 
became  himirry  ajrain.  It  often  happened,  that  for  two  or  tlirer; 
days  \w  had  nothinij  »  eat  ;  tlien  a  ral)i)it  or  two,  or  a  bird, 
^lould  aHord  us  a  prospect  of  protractina  the  sutl'ering  of  lum<rei' 
for  a  few  days  lonjrer.  We  said  much  to  Waw-be-be-nais-sa,  to 
Try  to  rouse  him  to  jrreater  exertion, as  we  knew  he  could  kill  vamo 
where  any  thin<>  was  to  be  foimd  ;  but  he  commonly  replied, 
ihat  he  was  loo  pooi- and  sick.  Wa-ine-iion-u-biow  ami  mys«'lf, 
thiukinir  that  somethiiiir  nii^lit  lie  fouiul  in  niori!  distant  excm- 
sions  tlian  we  had  been  iifrA  to  nuike,  started  viry  early  one 
morning,  and  travelled  hard  all  day  ;  ;ind  w  hen  it  was  near 
night  we  killed  a  y«)un}>  beaver,  and  Wa-me-u^on-a-biew  said  to 
nie,  '•  Mv  brother,  you  must  now  make  a  camjt,  and  cook  a  little 
of  the  beaver,  while  I  tro  farther  on  and  try  to  kill  somethinti-."' 
I  did  so,  and  about  sunsit  he  returned,  bringing  |)lenty  of  meat, 
having  killed  two  caril)oii.  Next  day  we  started  very  earlv  to 
drag  the  two  caribou>  llinmgh  all  the  long  distance  between  us 
and  our  camp.  I  could  not  reach  home  with  my  load,  but  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew  having  arrived,  sent  out  th«'  young  wonniii  to 
help  me,  so  that  I  arrived  betore  nddniglit.  We  now  saw  ik 
would  lutt  be  safe  for  us  to  renuiin  longer  by  ourselves,  and  this 
small  sup|)ly  cnalding  us  to  move,  «e  determined  to  go  in  cjuest 
of  some  people.  The  nearest  trading-house  was  that  ut  Clear 
Water  Lake,  distant  about  four  or  five  days'  journey.  We  left 
our  lodge,  and  taking  only  our  blankets,  a  kettle  or  two,  anil 
such  articles  as  were  necessary  for  our  journey,  started  for  the 
trading-house.     'I'he  coimlry  we  had  to  pass  was  full  uf  Ukes 

(0 


i 


n] 


■  I    iinw  iwwWWt-sti 


I     rid'    : 


«'^ 


i: 


11:;" 


ti 


^llfi' 


'■•  ^^r 


74, 


TANNER  S    NARHATIVE. 


and  islands,  swamps  and  marshes ;  htit  they  were  all  frozen,  so 
that  we  endeavoured  to  taki'  a  direct  rowte. 

Early  one  inorninir,  on  this  jonrney,  Wa\v-be-bc-nais-sa, 
roused  perhaps  by  excessive  huntjer,  or  by  the  exercise  be  was 
fompclled  fo  lake,  to  keep  alonovvitb  ns.  began  to  sing  and  pra\ 
for  something  to  eal.  At  length  he  said,  "  to-day  we  shall  see 
some  earilxui."  The  old  woman,  whose  temper  was  some- 
what sharjiened  i>y  our  long  continued  privations,  and  who  did 
not  consider  Waw-l)e-h«'-nais-sa  a  ver>  enler|)rising  hunter,  said, 
•'  Anil  if  von  slionld  see  caribou  you  will  not  !)»■  able  to  kill 
them.  Some  men  would  not  have  said,  *  we  shall  see  game  to- 
day,' but  '  we  shall  eat  it.'"  After  this  conv  Tsaiion,  we  had 
gone  but  a  little  distance  when  we  saw  six  ci'ribous,  coining  di- 
rectly towards  us.  We  «"oncealed  ourselt  .'s  in  the  bushes,  oil 
the  point  of  a  little  island,  it  '  tliev  came  within  shot.  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew  flashed  his  piece,  when  he  intended  to  fire,  ami 
the  herd  turned,  at  the  sound  of  the  lock,  to  run  off.  VVaw-be- 
be-nais-sa  fired  as  they  ran,  and  brok<'  the  shoulder  of  one  of 
them;  but  though  they  pursued  all  day,  they  returned  to  camp 
at  night  without  any  meat.  Our  prosj)ect  was  now  so  dis- 
couraging, that  we  concluded  to  lighten  ourselves,  by  leaving 
some  baguage,  in  order  to  make  the  greater  expedition.  We 
also  killed  our  last  dog,  w  ho  was  getting  too  weak  to  keep  up 
with  us;  but  the  flesh  of  this  animal,  for  some  reason,  the  old 
woman  would  not  eat.  After  several  days  we  were  bewildered, 
not  knowing  what  route  to  j)ursue,  ami  too  weak  to  travel.  In 
this  emergency,  the  old  woman,  who,  in  the  last  extremity, 
feemed  always  more  capable  of  making  great  exertions  than  any 
of  us,  fixed  our  camp  as  usual,  brought  us  a  large  pile  of  wood 
to  keep  a  fire  in  her  absence,  then  tying  her  blanket  about  her, 
took  her  tomahawk,  and  went  off,  as  we  very  well  knew,  to  seek 
for  some  method  by  which  to  relieve  us  from  our  present  dis- 
tress. She  came  to  us  again  on  the  following  day,  and  resorting 
to  her  often-tried  expedient  to  rouse  us  to  great  exertion,  she 
said,  "  My  children,  I  slept  last  night  in  a  distant  and  solitary 
place,  after  having  continued  long  in  prayer.  Then  I  dreamed, 
and  I  saw  the  road  in  which  1  had  come,  and  the  end  of  it  where 
I  had  stopped  at  night,  and  at  no  great  distance  from  this  I  saw 
the  beginning  of  another  road,  tiiat  led  directly  to  the  trader's 


*  ^ja(¥^ 


TANNKRS    NAHKATlVt: 


/*» 


L    * 

a 


jiuiisf .  In  my  dream  I  saw  white  men ;  Icl  \is,  iliorctoro,  lose 
no  lime,  for  tlic  Great  .Spirit  is  now  willing  to  lead  us  to  a  gooit 
lire."  Being  somewhat  animaleil  hy  ihi-  eonlideuce  and  Ijopc 
the  old  woman  was  in  this  way  able  to  ins|)ire,  we  departed  im- 
mediately ;  but  having  at  length  eome  to  the  end  of  her  path, 
and  i)a8sed  a  considerable  distance  beyond  it,  without  discover- 
ing any  traces  ol'  other  human  beings,  we  began  to  be  incredu- 
lous, some  reproaching  and  some  ridiculing  the  old  woman  ;  Init 
altewards,  to  our  great  joy,  we  found  a  recent  hunting  path, 
which  we  knew  must  lead  to  the  trader's  house  ;  then  redoubling 
our  efforts,  we  arrived  on  the  next  night  but  one,  after  that  in 
which  the  old  woman  had  slept  by  herself.  Here  we  found  the 
same  trader  from  whom  we  had  a  credit  of  one  hundred  and 
twenty  beaver  skins,  at  Rainy  Lake,  and,  as  he  was  willing  to 
send  out  and  bring  the  packs,  we  paid  him  his  credit,  and  had 
twenty  beaver  skins  left.  With  these  1  bought  four  traps,  for 
which  I  paid  five  skins  each.  They  also  gave  the  old  woman 
three  small  kegs  of  rum.  After  remaining  a  few  days,  we 
started  to  return  in  the  direction  we  came  from ;  for  some  dis- 
tance we  followed  the  large  hunting  path  of  the  people  belong- 
ing to  the  trading-house  ;  when  we  reached  the  point  where  we 
must  leave  this  road,  the  old  woman  gave  the  three  little  kegs 
of  rum  to  Waw-be-bc-nais-sa,  and  told  him  to  follow  on  the 
hunter's  path  until  he  should  find  them ;  then  sell  the  rum  for 
meat,  and  come  back  to  us.  One  of  the  little  kegs  he  imme- 
diately opened,  and  drank  al)out  half  of  it  belV»re  he  went  to 
sleep.  Next  morning,  however,  he  was  sober,  and  started  to  gi 
as  the  old  woman  had  directed,  being  in  the  lirst  place  informed 
where  to  find  us  again.  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  accomj)anied  him. 
After  they  had  started,  I  went  on  with  tin-  women  to  Sknt-tah- 
waw-wo-ne-gnn,  (the  dry  carryinu  place,)  wiiere  we  had  ap- 
pointed to  wait  for  him.  We  iiad  iieen  here  one  day  w  hen  \Va- 
me-gon-a-l)iew  arrived  with  a  load  of  meat ;  bul  Waw-bc-bc-nais- 
sa  did  not  come,  though  hi--  little  children  had  that  day  been 
rom|)elled  to  eat  their  moccasins.  We  fed  llic  woman  and  hci 
children,  and  then  sent  her  1(»  join  her  husband.  The  huntern 
with  whom  Waw-be-be-nais-sn  had  remained,  sent  ns  an  invitn- 
lion  by  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  to  «'ome  and  live  with  them;  but  it 
was  necessary,  in  the  first  place,  to  go  and  get  our  lodge,  and 


'! 


7' 


'-*=*■ 


Hi 


1  ANM;(i  .-i   N Mil;  \  I  n  r 


the  properly  wi'  had  h'll  there.  As  we  were  on  iiiir  riiiuii  \\« 
were  sto|)|)t'(l  al  the  ihy  carryiiiir  plae<'  with  t- xlreine  hunger. 
liaviiisr  Mil)sist('(l  I'dr  sonic  linic  almost  cntiri'lv  on  the  in- 
ner bark  o!'  trees,  and  |)artienlarl\  <d'  a  clindiMiir  viiu'  tbnnd 
there,  our  strcniTlli  was  nnirli  reduced.  NVa-me-tfon-a-biew 
C(ndd  not  walk  al  all,  and  everx  one  ol'  ihe  lanidv  had  lailed 
inore  than  the  old  xionian.  She  would  (asl  live  or  six  days,  ami 
set  ni  to  ho  iilll)  alli'eted  hy  it.  It  was  only  because  she  (eared 
llie  oilier  members  oC  the  Camily  would  perish  in  her  absenee, 
thai  she  now  conseiiled  to  lei  me  jjo  anil  try  lo  <rei  some  assistance 
from  tlu'  tradiim-house,  « liicli  we  believed  to  be  nearer  than  the 
cainpo!'  liie  himtei>.  'I'lie  former  we  knew  was  abmit  Uvo  or- 
dinary days'  journey  ;  bni,  in  my  weak  condition,  it  was  doubltul 
when  I  eonid  reaeh  it.  I  started  very  early  in  the  niorniiig :  the 
weather  was  eolii,  and  the  wi.id  liiuh.  I  bad  a  laroe  lake  to 
rross,  ami  here,  as  the  wind  blew  more  \  iolenlly,  I  snllered 
most.  I  <!;aiiied  the  olnei-  side  of  it  a  little  belore  suiisel,  and 
fat  down  to  rest.  As  soon  as  1  be<>an  to  leel  a  little  et)ld.  I  tried 
lo  i^et  up.  but  I'oimd  it  so  di1iic\dt  that  1  judi^ed  it  would  not  be 
,)rndent  for  nie  to  rest  airain  before  I  should  reach  the  tradin?- 
lioiise.  The  nisrht  was  nol  dark,  and  as  there  was  less  wind 
tlian  in  the  day  lime,  1  fuimd  ihe  Iravellino  more  pleasant.  I 
Oontinued  on  nil  niiilit.  and  arrived  early  next  niornin<r  Ht  the 
trader's  house.  As  so.m  as  I  opened  the  dour  they  knew  by  m\ 
face  that  i  was  stavvinji,  ami  imnie<lialely  impiired  after  m\ 
people.  As  soon  as  1  had  jriven  the  tieees.sary  infornialiou,  the) 
despatched  a  swift  Frenehinau,  wiMi  a  load  of  provisicms,  to  the 
iiimily.  I  had  iiet  n  in  ihe  trailer's  house  but  a  lew  hours,  when 
I  heard  the  voice  of  i\et-no-kwa  outside,  askinir,  "  is  mv  .son 
here?"  And  when  I  opemd  llie  door  she  expressed  ilie  nimosl 
.sati.^faction  al  sitrhl  cii'  me.  She  had  not  met  the  Frenchman, 
Avh(»  had  iione  by  a  dillerenl  route.  The  wimi  had  become  vio- 
jent  soon  after  i  left  <mr  cani|i,  and  the  idd  vvoniun.  thinking  I 
could  nol  cros^  the  lake,  started  alter  me  ;  and  ihe  driltinu  snow 
having  (discured  my  track,  she  <oidd  not  f(dlow  it.  and  came 
quite  to  the  tradinir-honse  with  the  apj)reh(>nsion  thai  i  bad 
perished  b\  Ihe  way.  After  a  day  or  two,  Wa-me-gon-a-biew 
anil  the  remainder  of  the  lamily  came  in,  haviutr  been  rflievcd 
by  the  FrenchiUHii.     It  ujtpeured,  also,  that  the  Indians  had  sent 


|b.  .; 


'lAVVl^WS    Vahhativi. 


?T 


on 


by  m\ 
u  r  ni> 
.  thr> 

to  lllf 

,  wlu'ii 
iiy  son 

cliinaii. 
lie  viu- 
ikiii^  I 
II  snow 

(I    CilllU' 

I    I    had 

-a-liifW 
iflifvcd 
i!i(l  tsent 


( 


\\a\v-l)c-br-nais-sa,  willia  load  of  meat,  lo  look  Inv  w-i  ;il  the  dry 
I'arryiiitf  place,  as  they  knew  we  conld  not  ick  li  ihcii  ciirainp- 
monl  uifhoiil  a  snpjily.  whicli  il  was  not  prohuhh-  w«'  could  pro- 
cure, lie  had  heen  very  near  the  cain|>  oldnrlaiinly  iifier  I  ieCl, 
hut  either  ihronirh  willidness,  <»r  Croni  sliipiiliiy.  I'aileil  to  tind 
th(!ni.  lie  had  camped  alnmst  within  call  ol  them,  and  eaten  :i 
hearty  meal,  as  they  discovered  hy  the  tract  s  he  hit.  Al'lei  re- 
inaiiiinjr  a  lew  ihiy>  at  tin-  tradinir  house,  we  all  went  lotjeiher  l<i 
join  the  linlians.  Tid^  parly  consisted  of  tliree  lodges,  the  |)rin- 
cipal  man  Ix'ina;  VVah-iic-ivant,  (crooked  leirs.)  'I'hree  ol  tin; 
hesi  hnnters  were  Ka-kaik,  (the  small  lia^vk.)  .Meli-ke-n;tnk,  (the 
turtle,)  and  l*a-ke-kun-n<'-tfah-i>o,  (he  that  sin i  Is  in  ihe  smoke.) 
This  last  was.  at  the  time  I  s|)eak  ol.  a  vers  di  . i.iirnished  inniter. 
.Some  tim<'  at'terwards  he  was  accidentally  wonnded,  recei\  inir  a 
w  hole  char(>i'  ol  shot  in  his  elhow.  hy  \\  hich  the  jinnt  and  the 
hones  of  his  arm  \iere  much  shaltered.  As  the  woimd  liid  not 
show  any  tendem-y  lo  heal,  hnt,  on  the  contrary,  liecame  worse 
and  worse,  he  applied  to  nraiu  Indians,  and  to  all  tin;  white  men 
Ji  saw,  to  enl  il  oil'  for  him.  \s  all  reliised  to  do  so,  or  to  as- 
sise him  in  amputating  it  hinisidl,  he  <  hose  a  lime  when  Ix'  hap- 
pened to  he  left  alone  in  his  lodtfe.  and  lakinjjj  two  knives,  the 
edirc  ol' one  of  whitdi  he  had  hacked  into  a  sort  of  saw,  he  witit 
his  ri<>ht  hand  and  arm  cut  oil' his  left,  and  threw  it  from  him  as 
far  as  he  could.  Soon  after,  as  he  refiteil  the  sl(n"v  him-t  If,  he 
fell  asleej),  in  which  siiuatiorthe  was  found  hy  his  iVieinis,  haviiiii 
losta  very  trreal  tpiaiili(\  of  hlood  :  hiil  he  soon  al'terw  aids  re- 
covered, and  nolwithstandinu  the  loss  of  (me  arm,  he  Ix came 
agiun  a  frrviW  hunter.  After  this  accident,  he  was  commonh 
called  Kosh-kin-ne-kait.  (the  cnt  oil'  arm.)  With  this  iiand  we 
lived  some  time,  havinu  always  plenty  Iti  rat,  thoujrl>  NVaw-be- 
be-nius-sa  killed  nothin>i. 

When  the  weatlu  r  heuan  lo  he  a  little  warm,  we  left  the  [n- 
dians,  ami  went  lo  huiil  heaver  near  'he  Iradinir  house,  liavinu 
lately  suH'ered  so  much  from  huu<rer,  we  were  afraid  lo  j:o  lo  an\' 
distant  place,  rcdyiiiii  tm  lar»e  iranu'  Kn-  supptn-t.  Here  wt  found 
early  one  niorninji,  a  Moose  track,  not  far  fnnn  the  iradioL'  heuse. 
There  was  m»w  livinir  with  us.  a  man  railed  I'a-hah-mew-in.  (he 
that  <'arries  about,)  who,  totfother  with  Wa-nie-ijon-a-hiew.  started 
Ji)  pursuil.     The  dotrs  followed  for  an  hour  or  two,  and  theu  to 


n 


'U 


"i^ 


lANNER  8  NAKRATIVI':. 


W;i 


) 


tiirnefl ;  at  this  Pa-hali-iiiow-in  was  <liHr«»;r>  r**!!,  aJhI  Uirned  l>ack . 
I)iit  VVa-iiie-ir(»ii-H-l)iow  still  k('|)t  on.  Tin.-  ..Uij*  ^ '.hs«  cdiiid  run 
very  sm  ill,  and  lor  a  lon^  time  In;  [)assed  a'i  ;ht!  ilo>fs,  one  or  two 
<>i'  \vlii<  li  rontiniH'i)  on  tlif  truck.  It  was  alter  noon  v,  lien  he  ar- 
rived at  a  lake  wliicli  the  nioose  had  attenipied  to  rros« ;  but  as 
ill  some  parts  the  ice  was  (piite  smooth,  which  prevented  him 
IVoMi  running  so  last  as  on  land,  Wa-me-fjon-a-hiew  overtook  him. 
When  he  came  ver\  near,  the  Coremosi  dou.  who  had  kept  at  no 
great  distance  iVom  Wa-me-iron-a-hiew,  pass«:d  him,  and  ujol  l)elorc 
the  moose,  whioii  was  now  easily  killed.  We  remained  all  this 
sprinii.  about  one  day  from  the  trading  house,  taking  considera- 
ble game.  I  killed  by  mysell  twenty  otters,  besides  a  good  many 
beavers  and  olher  animals.  As  I  was  one  day  going  to  look  at 
my  traps,  I  iotmd  some  ducks  in  a  pond  ;  and  taking  the  ball  out 
of  my  gun,  I  put  in  some  shot,  and  began  to  creep  up  to  them. 
As  I  was  <Tawlin!i  cautiously  through  the  bushe.^,  a  bear  started 
up  near  me,  and  ran  into  a  while  pine  tree,  almost  over  my  head. 
I  hastily  threw  a  i)all  into  my  giui  and  fired;  but  the  gun  burst 
about  midway  of  the  barrel,  and  all  the  upper  half  of  it  was  car- 
tied  away.  'I'he  bear  was  apparently  untouched,  but  he  ran  up 
hiirher  into  the  tree.  I  loaded  what  was  left  of  my  gun,  and  ta- 
kinir  aim  the  secimd  time,  brought  him  to  the  ground. 

While  we  lived  here  we  made  a  number  of  packs;  and  as  it 
Mas  inconvenient  to  keep  these  in  our  small  lodge,  we  left  them. 
lV(tin  time  to  lime,  with  the  traders,  for  safe  keeping.  When  the 
time  came  for  them  to  come  down  to  the  Grand  Portage,  they 
look  (»ur  packs  without  our  consent ;  but  the  old  woman  followed 
after  them  to  Rainy  Lake,  and  retook  every  thing  that  belonged 
to  us.  But  she  was  prevailed  upon  to  .sell  them.  From  Rainy 
Lake  w«  went  to  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  where  Pa-bah-mew-in 
left  us.  Here,  also,  Waw-be-be-nuis-sa  rejoined  us,  wishing  to 
return  with  us  to  Rainy  Lake  ;  but  Net-no-kwa  had  heard  of  a 
murder  committed  there  by  some  of  his  relations,  that  would  have 
been  revenged  on  him  ;  for  which  reason  she  would  not  sufl'er  him 
to  return  there.  At  the  invitation  of  a  man  called  8ah-muk,  an 
OtUiwwaw  chief,  and  a  relative  of  Net-no-kwa,  we  returned  to 
Rainy  Lake,  to  live  with  him.  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  with  the  two 
women,  and  the  children,  went  on  to  Red  River.  Hah-muk  treated 
(IS  with  much  kindneos.  He  built  and  gave  us  a  large  bark  canoe* 


nv-.^ 


lANNERS    NARRATIVI.. 


w 


-     ^fciTI^ 


\  I.  ic-k . 
uid  run 
•  or  twii 
I  he  ar- 
;  but  as 
otl   liim 
n)k  him. 
])t  ul  no 
)t  lu'forc 
I  all  this 
)iisi<lera- 
od  many 
)  look  at 
3  ball  out 
to  them, 
ir  started 
my  head, 
^un  burst 
,  was  car- 
he  ran  up 
in,  and  ta- 

and  as  it 
left  them. 
When  the 
•tage,  they 
n  followed 
t  belonged 
■om  Rainy 
|uh-mew-ii» 
wishing  to 
heard  of  a 
[vould  have 
gulVer  him 
ih-muk,  an 
eturned  to 
lith  the  two 
nuk  treated 
lark  canoe- 


intended  for  the  use  of  the  fur  iruders,  and  which  we  sold  to  them 
lor  the  value  of  one  hundred  dollars,  which  was  at  that  time  the 
common  price  of  such  canoes  in  that  part  of  the  country.  He 
also  built  us  ii  small  canoe  for  our  own  use. 

The  river  which  fulls  into  Rainy  Lake,  is  called  Kocheche-sc- 
bee,  (Source  River,)  and  in  it  is  a  considerable  fall,  not  far  dis- 
tant from  the  lake.  Here  I  used  to  take,  with  a  hook  and  line, 
great  numbers  of  the  fish  called  by  the  French,  dory.  One  day, 
(IS  I  was  fi.shinn  here,  a  very  large  sturgeon  came  down  the  fall, 
nnd  happening  to  get  into  shallow  water,  was  unable  to  make  his 
escape.  I  killed  him  with  a  stone ;  and  as  it  was  the  first  that 
had  been  killed  here,  Hah-miik  made  a  feast  on  the  occasion. 

After  some  time  we  started  from  this  place,  with  a  considera- 
ble band  ot  Ojibbeways,  to  cross  Rainy  Lake.  At  the  point  where 
we  were  to  separate  from  them,  and  they  were  to  disperse  in  va- 
rious directions,  all  stopped  to  drink.  In  the  course  of  this 
drunken  frolick,  they  stole  from  us  all  our  corn  and  grease,  lea- 
ving us  ([uite  destitute  of  provisions.  This  was  the  first  instance 
in  which  I  had  ever  joined  the  Indians  in  drinkinff.  and  when  I 
recovered  from  it,  the  old  woman  reproved  me  very  shar[)ly  and 
sensibly,  though  she  herself  had  drank  much  more  than  I  had. 

As  soon  as  I  recovered  my  wits,  and  perceived  into  what  a  con- 
dition we  had  brought  ourselves,  I  put  the  old  woman  in  the  ca- 
noe, and  went  immediately  to  a  place  where  I  knew  there  was 
good  fishing.  The  Ojibbeways  had  not  left  us  a  mouthful  of 
food  ;  but  1  soon  caught  three  dories,  so  that  we  did  not  sufler 
from  hunger.  Next  morning  I  slopped  for  breakfast  at  a  carry- 
mg  place  where  these  fish  were  very  abundant ;  and  while  thi; 
old  woman  was  making  a  fire  and  cooking  one  thai  I  had  just 
caught,  I  took  nearly  an  hundred.  Before  we  we^re  ready  to  re- 
cmbark,  some  trader's  canoes  came  along,  and  the  old  woman, 
not  having  entirely  recovered  from  her  drunken  frolick,  sold  my 
fish  for  rum.  The  traders  cimtinued  to  pass  during  the  day,  but 
I  hid  away  from  the  old  woman,  so  many  fish  as  enabled  me  to 
purchase  a  large  sack  of  corn  and  grease.  When  Net-no-kwa  be- 
came sober,  she  was  much  pleased  that  I  had  taken  this  course 
with  her. 

In  the  middle  of  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  is  a  small,  but  hiffb 
rocky  island,  almost  without  any  trees  or  bushes.    This  was  now 


% 


'j^" 


80 


I'AXXKR  S    NAKKATJVl 


■     i'        '       < 

if' I 


\i 


'■■■  '  ^-  iS-  ■';* 

id  i 


1I-. 


ii>i 


rovcrrd  with  yoiiiiir  jriills  mid  cui  ■.:<tiitiits,  ot  wliirh  T  killed  firreai. 
miiiilx  rs  ;  kiiockiiitj  llifiii  dtiwii  wilh  a  stick.  We  sclcclcd  our 
hundred  and  (wi'nly  ot'  tlic  laltcst,  and  dried  tin  in  in  the  snxike. 
paeked  ihein  in  saeks,  and  earried  them  aionir  witii  us.  Thenen 
\Vf  went  h\  May  ol  the  Miiskeeif  earryinir  phue.  to  Red  Kiver. 
As  we  u«re  |ias(*in>r  down  this  river,  I  shut  a  larue  hearon  shore, 
near  the  brink  ol'  the  river.  He  sereanied  out  in  a  rerv  unusual 
manner,  then  ran  douii  iiiio  the  water,  and  sunk. 

At  this  |)hie<-,  (sinee  eaHed  I'endiinah,)  where  the  Neheiiinnah- 
iip-sehee  enters  lied  Hiver,  had  rurnuiiv  Iteen  a  trathn^  hnusc. 
We  found  no  priijih',  whiles  oi  Indiaun;  atni  as  we  had  not 
phnty  ot  provisions,  we  went  on  all  iii<jht,  hopiiii>  soon  to  in<-el 
M'ilh  some  peoph>.  .Alter  snnrisf  next  morniiii>,  we  hinih-d,  ami 
ihe  i-ld  woman,  whih  ('olhetiiDr  wood  to  make  a  lire,  diseoverod 
suiiir  hullahx's  in  the  woods.  (ti\in>i  me  noliee  <d  tiiis,  f  ran  u|i 
and  l\ilh>d  a  hull;  hut  pei('ei\in<>  that  he  was  verv  poor,  I  crept 
a  little  tartherand  shot  a  lart>t'  laltcow.  Mie  ran  some  disianee. 
and  tell  in  an  open  prairie.  A  hull  liial  l(dlowi'd  lit  r.  no  sooner 
saw  me  (liter  the  open  prairie,  at  ihe  distance  o|  three  <u-  loui- 
hundred  vards  Imhii  her,  than  he  ran  at  me  witli  so  much  I'lirv  , 
that  i  thought  it  |irudenl  to  retire  into  the  woods.  We  reiiiuiiied 
all  ilay  al  this  plan-,  and  I  made  several  attempts  lo  (ret  til  tlir 
cow:  hut  -<lie  was  -o  xiuilaiiliv  watched  li\  tlic  same  hull,  that  f 
^vas  at  la^tt  compelled  to  leave  her.  In  Ihe  rnttin(>  seusoii,  it  in 
not  unusual  to  see  the  hiiiU  liehavi'  in  this  way. 

Next  dav,  we  met  the  traders  c(miinu  up  to  Nehetiiiiiiah-ne-sr- 
hre,*  and  uuvr  them  a  part  <•!  the  meal  we  had  taken  Iroin  the 
Itiill.  Without  any  other  dcl.is .  wr  w  I  iitoii  to  the  I'niirie  I'orlam- 
ot  the  \-siiiin  I'uiii  Kiver,  where  \»e  IimiiiiI  NN  .i-me-ifon-a-hiew 
and  \N  aw -l)e-lie-iiais-ha,  with  the  other  memliers  ol  our  lainilv. 
Innii  whom  we  had  hien  so  lonu  separated. 

VVaw-l)e-he-tittiH-sa,  since  tiny  hit  us,  had  turned  away  liiH  tbr> 
imT  wile,  unil  married  the  daiiu'liter  ol  .N'tHio-kvvn's  sister,  who 
had  hi  I  II  hioui'ht  up  m  (Uir  lamiK,  and  whom  the  old  woiniin 
had  alvvavs  treated  us  her  own  ihild.    >Nel-:io-kwii  no  sooner  un> 

»  NclMiiimi.di  111' srU't— Hiiili  <  nimlxTrv  Himt ;  fiiicc  fullid  l'i'iiil>iiiali    Tin 
Ilitliini  luiiiii-  Is  (lrri\r(l  tniiii  Ihiil  <<t   Uic  mIhii'iiiiiii,  vmiIi  liiri;i'  red  nlil>lr  In  rrit  ~, 
MHiH'w hut  n<H<>iiiiiliii|!  lilt'  iTimrii'Trv  ;  tlicnrc  nilleil  \.  unycjHUJUs.     "  Hcil  JJivM' 
I*  from  the  Itiiliiin  iMiMliwuwuun  •m'Wfmilice. 


!i 


TANNER  S    NAHRATIVi:. 


81 


(iin  tin- 

-a-liiow 
tiiinily . 

Iiis  lor- 
r,   «lui 

WillllUlk 
HUT  1111- 

nali    'I'll' 
U  rrii  -. 
Inl  Jlivrr 


ilcrsiooil  wliat  liad  taken  itlaro,  tlian  slic  took  up  wlml  low  arti- 
rlos  she  could  see  in  tlir  lodir*'.  b«'lun^inir  lo  Waw-br-bo-nftis-sa, 
;ui(l  tliiouiiifr  llu'in  out.  said  lo  liiiii,  "  I  liavc  Ix'cii  starved  by  you 
ulrcadv,  and  I  wi.^li  to  have  innhiiitr  inorr  to  do  with  you.  (Jo, 
and  lUDvido  lor  your  «iwn  wants;  it  in  more  tlian  so  uiiscrablo 
a  liuiitcr  as  you  aii',  is  able  lo  ib».  you  sball  not  bavc  my  ilauirli- 
tor."  f>o  biiiiir  turned  out.  be  w  enl  oil'  by  biinsell'  lor  a  lew 
flays;  biii  as  Net-i,)-kwa  soon  b  anied  lliat  bis  loriner  wit'e  was 
iiiurr'.'d  to  anotber  man,  and  ibal  be  was  destitute,  sbe  adinilled 
liiin  aj^Miii  into  ibe  lodire.  it  was  |irobably  i'ront  tear  of  tbc  old 
woman,  tliat  be  now  beeaiuo  a  better  liunter  tliaii  be  bad  boon 
Itel'ore. 

'I'liat  winter  I  bunted  tor  a  trader,  called  i)y  ibe  Indians  Aiieeis 
wbieli  means  an  elm  tree.  As  ibe  winter  advanced,  and  tbe 
weatber  became  more  and  more  cold,  I  liMMid  it  (lil]i<'ub  to  jini- 
riire  as  nitieli  I'.aine  as  I  bad  been  in  ibe  liabil  ol  siijiplyinix.  and 
;is  was  wanted  by  tbe  trader.  I'^rl\  one  iiioniiius  :diont  midwin- 
ter, I  stalled  an  elk.  I  |iio^ii(d  until  iuLilM,.ind  bad  almost  oxer- 
taken  bim :  but  bi)|ie  and  slren<>lb  lailed  inc  at  tlie  same  tiiin  . 
Wbat  idotbiiiiT  I  bad  on  iih  .  nutwitbstamlinu  tiie  exlrenie  cold- 
ness of  ibe  wealber,  was  ilrem  brd  w  ilb  sweat.  It  was  noi  b.mjj 
.liter  1  Imned  towards  bonie.  ibat  I  felt  it  stilb  iiiii!>  about  me. 
Mv  lejjains  were  ol'  cbilb.  and  were  loin  in  pieces  in  riinniu^ 
ll*iS»ui>b  ibe  briisb.  I  was  conscious  I  wassoimwb.il  Irozeii.  be- 
torc  1  arrived  at  ibe  jdace  wliere  I  bad  bit  our  lodge  standitii>  in 
ilie  inorniiiu.  and  il  was  now  inidnitdil.  I  knew  it  bad  been  tin* 
old  woman's  iiileiilion  to  move,  and  I  knew  wbere  .sbewnnld^o; 
but  I  had  not  been  inlorined  >be  would  }>o  on  that  dav.  As  I  t'ol- 
liiwed  on  tlieir  jiatb,  I  soon  ceased  lo  siiilir  rnuii  cold,  and  fell 
tliat  sleejiy  sensation  w  liicli  I  knew  prereded  tbe  last  >|ii<re  of 
weakness  in  sticli  as  me  of  told.  1  redoubleil  m\  clbuN,  but  w  ilb 
in  entire  coum  iousne>>  of  tbe  dan^'er  of  m\  siiualioii,  it  was  w  lib 
no  small  dilliiultx  ibal  I  could  |irevent  in\.->elf  from  hiuti  down. 
\t  leiiirtb  I  lost  all  eonsriousiiess  I'm'  simie  time,  bow  bnii;  I  can- 
not tell ;  and  awakiui!  as  from  a  dream.  I  found  I  bad  been  walK- 
inu  round  and  round  in  a  small  circle,  not  more  ibaii  twenty  oi 
twi'iily-live  yards  over.  Alter  tbe  return  of  my  senses,  I  lookid 
abt^ul  to  trv  to  discover  iii\  palb,  ;is  |  bad  ini»s( d  ji  ;  but  nliile  I 
wa*  lookiiiL'.  I  discovered  a   lijflil  at   a  di-Mucc.   bv   wbicb    I  df 

n 


Vi 


y^ 


82 


I  ANMK  >:    \  M!n  \X\\  f 


if    J*'^^ 


V    r 


* 


iik^ 


t 


rocU^d  my  <'nur-«r,  Oiuc  iiinir.  Im'Iom-  I  rculicil  iho  lotljjo,  I  lo>i 
my  HPlisos  ;  liiil  I  ilid  nol  fall  iImwii  :  if  I  had,  I  slxtiild  never  hiivr- 
sjol  up  airniii :  Itiil  I  liui  niiiiid  and  round  in  a  rirrlo  as  l)of«»rr- 
Willi;  I  at  lasl  ninir  inln  llic  ll)d^^)',  I  innncdiairly  Irll  down,  hut 
I  did  not  lose  ni\  sell'  as  liclorr. 


can  I 


(in(inl»<r  si  cinii  tin;  lliirK 
and  s|)arklin>i  mat  nl  Inisl  on  tlii'  iiisjilr  oC  the  piikkwi  lod^e. 
iind  hearin<r  mv  innthrr  say  that  she  had  kc|il  a  hirtfr  tire  in  cn- 
|iri'talion  of  inv  arrival ;  and  that  shr  had  not  thoii<rhi  I  slinuld 
Ml'  in   the  niornin<',  Imt   that  I  should   havr 


ut\i'  tiren  so    Ion 


known  lonj;  lirtore  niirht  ol  her  haviiiir  niovid.      Il  was  a  iiionlii 
liel'ore  I  was  ahle  to  <{o  out  ai(ain,  my  I'aee,  hniids,  and  ie^s,  havinir 


•ecu  inur 


hi 


roziMi. 


Till'  wi-athir  was  lnMiniiinji  to  lie  a  little  warm,  so  that  tlu' 
»ni)w  sometimes  melted,  when  I  lieiran  to  hunt  auain.  (ioint;  on<' 
day  with  Waw-he-he-nnis-sa,  a  jrood  <iistaiu'e  up  the  A.ssinneltoin. 
we  (omul  a  lar^r  In  rd  ol  prolmldy  '^N)  ilk.  in  a  littlr  prairie, 
wliifh  wasalmost  Kurniinidril  hy  thr  riu'r.  In  the  iroru'e,  whieh 
»»as  ru>  morr  than  two  hundred  \ arils  aeross.  NVaw-he-ln-nais->;( 
and  I  >iationid  oiirscKrs.  and  the  Iriirlitem-d  herd  heiny  imwil 
Hum  to  vrntuir  oil  ilir  -iiiootii  lee  in  ihr  riur.  \u  ^un  to  run  round 
and  round   the  lilllr    prairie.      It    sometimes   happened    that  oin 


:is    pushrd  within    thr    reaeh  o|    our   shot,  and    in    this  way  Wi 


kill 


eil    two. 


our  rai;i  iiH>s  to  i>et  iirarir,  ue  advaiu'ei 


d    NO  til 

viiled. 


towards  thr  ii  titir  ol    th<    prairir,  that    the   hrrd  was  di 

part  lirint>    drivni    on    ihr  hi,  and  a  part   rseapiiu'    to  the    hit>li 


Wi 


Urouniis.      \^  aw-M('-lir-iiitis-sa  lollowcil  thr  laltir.  and  I  run  on  tn 
thr  iie.     'The  rlk>^  on  thr  rivrr,  slippinij  on  the  smooth  ice,  and 
luinu  mui  h  (rinhliiird.  erowdrd  so  dose  toi;ither  that  their  irreai 
weijrht  hroke  thr  iii  ;   and   ii-  lliey  wiiiled    townriK   thr  oppositi 
-Ihire,  iiiid  liidi'in  oiiri'd  in  a  hody  to  riNe  upon  thr  irr.  it  lonliii 
ui'd  to  lirrak  ht'loir  thrill.    I  ran  hiisiijv  and  thou^litli<ss|\  itliinp 
thr  hriiik  ot  thr  oprii  pliier,  iind  lis  the  water  Wiis  not  so  deep  ii 
to  swim  the  elks,  I  llioiii>ht  I  iiiiuht  ai-t  those  I  killed,  and  there 
lure  eontiniied  .slioiitiii!;  tluin  as  last  as  |  roiild.      When  inv  I 


lal 


« 


er«-  iill  e\|ieniliil.  I  drew  rn\   knil'e,  iind   killed  nnr  or  twu  with 


it;  hut  all  I  killed  in  llie  water,  were  in  a  lew  minutes  s.vept  un 
der  the  ire,  iind  I  ;>ot  not  one  ot  them.  One  onh ,  whirh  I  .struel. 
niter  he  rose  upon  the  iee  on  the  !«hore,  i  ^aved.  This,  in  aitdi 
•  iiill  to  the  others  we  had  killed  on   ihe  sliore.  made  Imir :  heint" 


I  ANNtlls     N  \KKAI  l\  I 


SI 


nil  \vi'  wncalilt   l<i  lukc  out  oT  a  yaiiff  oi   mil  It  .>s  iliaii  ivvo  liiiii 
ilird.      VVaw-l»t-lt<-iiais-sa  unit  iiiiiiioiliatcl).  iiiiilrr  {\w  prctnict 
ol  iu»lilyi"fr  ''••'  tradns,  ami  -^old  the  luiii  ilk-  a-,  his  dw  ii,  lhouir|i 
)i('  killed  ImiI  two  of  tlinii. 

\1  iliis  tiiac,  \N  a-iiH'->ri>u-a-!ii«u  was  iiiialdc  li>  Imiil,  lia\  iim.  in 
a  (Iriinktri  IVidick,  liirii  sti  stvcrilv  htiiiiiii,  tlmt  lit-  \v;i>  iiol  alilr 
1<(  slaiid.  Ilia  U\\  da\s,  I  wciil  afiaiii  \*itli  Waw -In -Ix-nais-sa 
to  liiinl  (Iks.  We  discuvrrcil  sdimc  in  tlir  inairic  ;  Itiit  <  raw  liii;; 
ii|i  li(liiii<l  a  lilllr  iiu>i|iialily  of  siirtarr,  w  liirli  iiialilcd  ns  to  <-oit- 
«»'al  oursilvcs,  we  <  aiiic  w  illiiii  a  short  (listaiicr.  'riicic  was  a 
viry  lar^t'  and  iat  luick  wliirh  I  wislnd  to  nhuot,  Iml  NVaw-ht: 
hi'-nais-sii  )4ai(l,  "  not  so,  ni>  lirolht  r,  Itsi  you  should  liil  to  kill 
him  ;  as  hf  is  llu-  hist  in  the  hrrd  I  will  shoot  him,  and  you  ma\ 
)rv  to  kill  oiii'  in  tin  sfualhr  oms."  So  I  told  him  thai  I  would 
shoot  at  (MIC  that  was  lsiii<>  down;  we  Itrcd  iiolh  tooi  ihi  r,  liiil  In 
lliiKHcd  and  1  kilUd.  Tin-  hrrd  then  lan  oil',  ami  I  inirsm  d  with- 
out waiting'  to  huli  hrr,  or  rvni  to  i  xaiiiiin'  tin  uin  I  had  killrd 
I  continiinl  thi'  rhasc  all  day,  and  hrtori'  niuht  had  killrd  two 
nnn'r,  as  ihr  ilks  ucrr  so  niinli  latiumd  thai  i  ranic  u|i  lo  tlirm 
pretty  easily.  As  it  was  now  ni<ihl,  i  madr  ihr  ln">l  ol  iiu  \\a\ 
huuM',  and  whrii  I  arrivnl,  I'ouiid  that  \N  aw -hr-lir-nais-sa  iiad 
iirou(r|it  honie  meat,  and  had  heen  ainusinu  the  lamily  lt\  ileseri 
liin^  the  manner  in  u  hieh  he  said  he  had  killed  tin  ilk.  I  said  to 
ihi'Mi,  "I  am  \iiy  <|lad  hr  has  killed  an  elk.  lor  I  have  killed 
three,  Hiiil  ti  -niiirrou'  we  shall  ha\e  |drnt\  o|  nn  ai."  Hut  as  I 
had  soiiu'  sn.spieiiiii  ol  him,  I  took  him  ouisidi',  :ind  askid  him 
alxMil  the  one  he  had  killrd.  ami  eas>l\  madr  him  .leknow  Inl^i', 
that  It  was  mt  other  than  tin  om  1  had  shot,  Irom  whieli  hi 
liroU(>ht  in  some  ot  tin*  imal.  lie  was  st-nt  to  the  iruders  to  eall 
men   I  >  hrin^>   in  (he  me.it,  and  airain  sold  .ill   ihi    '  his  own. 

when  he  had  not  liel|>ed  to  kill  e\fii  one  ol  them.  <  iie  oM  wn- 
nuin,  when  she  hrianie  an|uairted  uilh  thi-'  'omhii '.  |'i  isii'iiIm! 
him  SI)  inueli,  that  he  \»as  mdmed  to  havin-.  v\  a-nie-uon-a 
blow,  aJNo,  who  liad  married  an  (>jihhewa\  Moniiin  <n  thr  i'*. 
now  went  to  li»i'  with  his  lalher-in-lHW,  ai.i!  ihe'e  retniiiued  ii 
our  tamil\,  onl\  the  old  woman  and  hi\si  !i,  the  How'weli<_'  (rirl. 
Ke-/liik-o-weninne,  the  son  ol Taw-^'a-weninm*.  now  soim  ihiiii 

•  it  a  hoy,  and   the  luo  sihhII  ehil'dreii.      I  uas  now,   for   the  Itrst 

•  iim-.  I«>|l  lc»  pnyi  the  winter  bv  mV'elt.  with  a  (ninilv  to  provid' 


I 


M 


r.VN.NKIl  >    .NAKIIAin  I. 


i'or,  nml  iin  tnic  lo  assist  iii(>.  \Va\\-l)t'-lu'-iiiiis->ri  ciKvinipcdnhoul 
Olio  «luy  iVoin  us.  I  Inul,  in  tlx- Cfviirso  oi  the  liill.  killed  u  n^mnl 
iiiany  heavers  ami  dllier  animals,  and  we  had  lor  some  lime 
eiKtnirh  to  supply  all  our  wanls.  \>  e  had  also  jilentv  oC  hlaiikels 
and  elolhinjf.  One  ver\  cold  inorninii  in  the  winter,  as  I  was  fro- 
iu^  out  tu  hunt,  I  stripped  (dVall  my  silver  orimmentH,  and  hmlg 
ihein  lip  in  the  loilir«'.  'I'he  idd  wcniian  askeil  me  why  I  did  so ; 
1  to!  '  her  that  they  were  mil  <-omlorlahle  in  snch  extreme  eokl 
weather;  luoreoti-r,  tiiat  in  piirsiiini<  <rame  I  was  liahle  to  lose 
them.  She  remoiisiraleil  lor  some  lime,  hut  I  persisted,  and  went 
to  hunt  without  them.  At  the  -tme  time  I  started  to  hunt,  the 
old  woman  started  lor  VV»w-!)e-lie-nai^-sa's  lodije,  iniendinii  to 
be  ahsent  two  da\s.  The  lodoe  was  Irt'l  in  the  eare  ot  Skwah- 
shish,  as  the  Howwetiu;  ifirl  was  railed,  and    Ke-/.hik-o-weniime. 


\\h 


ten   I    returned 


lat< 


at    ni>rht,  all 


I  loiiii    am!    lm«^lle«•ess 


fill 


hunt.  I  fttiind  these  two  children  slandiu<r  shivering  uiul  n-)in(T 
I»y  the  side  of  the  a>hes  of  our  lod'je,  m  liich,  ow  iiiM  lo  their  care- 
lessness, had  lieeii  Iturned  dow  n,  and  cMry  lliin;^  \\v  had  eoiisii- 
incd  in  il.  My  silxrr  ornamenl-i,  one  ul  my  <juns,  several  hlaii- 
l\els,  and  miieh  cdotliiiiir.  wen-  lost.  We  had  heen  rather  wealthy 
amoiii;  the  Indians  of  lliat  coimfiy  ;  now  we  had  nothins  lelt  hui 
.1  medicine  hai:  and  a  ket; of  nun.  When  I  saw  the  ket>  of  rum, 
I  fell  aiinrv  ihal  only  what  was  ustdess  and  hiirtliil  to  us  was  left. 


\v 


hih 


e  every  tlimir  valnalile  hail  lieen  (jesiroyeti,  and  lakmu  it  iiji, 
throw  it  to  a  distance.  I  then  r>trip|ied  the  hianket  from  the  Itow- 
weliii  tt'r'<  i""l  ^•■'•'  herawn  lo  >\i\\  hy  herself  in  the  snow;  tell- 
iiii:  her  ihat  as  iier  carelessness  had  stripped  iis  ol  eve  r\  ihiiiif,  il 
Vas  hut  ri|2;lil  she  should  feel  the  cidd  more  than  I  did.  I  tiieii 
look  the  little  liov.  Ke-/,liik-o-wenimie,  and  we  lay  flown  lo- 
•rether  upon  ihe  warm  ashes. 

Very  early  the  mxl  morniiiif  I  started  out  to  hiiiil  ;  ami  as  ! 
Jviiew  very  well  how  llu-old  woman  would  hehave  when  she  came 
to  a  kliowledire  of  her  misfortune.  I  did  not  wish  to 


rear 


h  h 


ome 


until  late  at  nisihi.  W  Inn  a|iproaehintr  the  plare  where  our  lodtrr 
had  lieeii,  I  heanl  the  tdd  wiunan  s(oldin<:  and  heatini:  the  little 
j^irl.  At  leniilh,  when  !  wen:  to  the  lire,  she  asked  me  why  I  iiad 
lint  killed  h«'r  w  hen  I  first  rame  home  and  found  the  lodue  huriied 


(lowr 


"H 


mee  voii  diil  not,    snid  slie, 


I 


must   now 


kill 


her. 


Oh  iiiv  luother  do  nut  kill  ine.  and  1  will  pay  yuu  fur  all  you 


J  anm;k  >  N.\ui:.vri\  i 


Ni 


AVIiJit  have  v( 


on  to  sj;iv«' ?  Iiow  <';in  you  pay  iric 


It  ny, 
u-  \\o\\- 
iw ;  till- 

tllillsr,  it 

n\  II    to 

mil  as  ! 

II  ( iim<* 
lioin*' 

ir  lo(lu«' 

liic  \\n\v 

ly  I  IudI 

hunictl 

ill    ll.T." 

all  you 


!iav«'  lost. 

^aitl  ilu'  old  woman.  *•  I  will  yivc  you  ilic  Maiiiin,""  saiil  tlu;  Ut- 
ile {fill,  "  tlu'  gn'al  Manilo  shall  vonw  down  to  rowanl  you,  if 
vou  ilo  iii'i  liill  uif."  Wc  were  now  destitute  of  provisions,  and 
almost  naked  ;  but  we  dctcriiiiiiod  to  <ro  to  Aiirel/s  Iradinir-housc, 
at  KViiiikauucslu'wayii'iant,  where  we  oiitaiiied  credit  for  the 
amoiinl  ol' one  park  ot  lieaver  skins  ;  and  with  the  blankets  and 
(loth  whi<h  we  piirehuseil  in  this  way,  we  returned  to  Wa-me- 
gon-a-biew'H  lu«l)/e,  whence  he  and  his  wife  aecompanied  us  to 
our  own  place. 

We  coiniuenced  to  npair  our  loss,  by  buildinif  a  small  grann 
lodire,  in  wiiich  to  slielter  ourselves  while  w<'  should  p.  ?pare  the 
pukkwi  for  a  new  wigwam.'  The  women  were  very  industri- 
ous in  makiniT  these,  and  noiu'  more  active  than  Skwah-shish,  the 
IJowwetifT  irirl.  At  niifht,  also,  when  it  was  too  dark  to  hunt, 
Wa-me-iroii-a-biew  and  myself  assisted  at  this  labour.  In  a  (f\v 
days  our  lodge  wa>  coin|)lete(l,  and  Wa-me-gon-H-biew,  having 
killed  three  elks,  left  us  for  his  own  honte. 

After  a  little  lime,  plenty  and  g(»od  hiimou:"  were  restored. 
One  eveiiinir  the  old  woman  called  to  her  ilie  little  Bowwelig 
•iirl,  and  asked  her  if  she  remembered  what  i>romise  she  had  made 
to  her  when  she  was  whipped  for  burniiiir  ?he  lodge.  Skwah- 
sliish  coulil  make  no  answer;  iuit  the  old  woman  look  the  op- 
portimilv  to  admonish  lier  of  the  impropriety  of  usiiiir  llie  iian\e 
uf  the  Deity  in  a  light  and  irreverent  manner. 

*  Prouoiuu'ed  bv  llie  liuliaii«.  Wc  jo-wlmm 


MX  I  11*1  1  \ 


1)1 

i 


S6 


lANNKRS    NAKKATU  I 


i   ..[ 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Failure  ot'  an  altnmiit  to  accoinpariy  a  war-party  to  the  Missouri — removal  to 
Eik  Kivrr— joiiKil  in  my  liiintiiii,' i;rouii;' i  by  soiui-  Naudowiiys,  from  Lower 
f'aiiuda — liospilality  ol'llic  Crccs— pr.ictico  oC  im'ili"iii«' — (lis|mt«'  with  a  Nau- 
(lo»a\  — l);iii(l  oC  Tus-kwaw-!i(i-ii('rs — Hriiii'  SpriiiiT,  on  KIk  Hivcr — I  rcccivt' a 
si'vi-ri'  injury  liy  liillinj;  I'roin  in\  liorsc — involved  in  (iinioulty  liy  niv  lijHtev 
brittlier — haliils  of  the  nuxwe-tloer — ran^je  ol  the  moose,  the  elk,  and  the  rrir 
deer. 

At  this  |»ljir»'  we  rcmaiiind  tintil  s[)ring,  when,  at  <he  o.om- 
inciicciiiciil  ol  tiir  sni^ar  season,  wo  \v»'iil  to  Kt'-nii-kau-iio-shc- 
U'av-lioant.  \\v  applied  lo  ilu;  Indians  \\\vre  to  give  us  some 
Jri't^s  to  make  sii<rar.     They  giivr  us  a  plaro  wlnre   wrro  a  tew 


^niall  tre 


l)iil    llie  old  woiiiaii  was  dissatislivd,  and  rettised   to 


reiuaiii.  We  tlierclore  travelled  two  days  by  ourselvfs,  until  wr 
I'oiiud  a  good  plaee  to  make  sugar,  ami  iii  the  same  (Uslricl  were 
plenty  ol  heaver!--  as  well  as  bireh  lor  troughs.  When  we  had 
been  iiere  long  <  !iotij;h  to  hi-ve  liiiislied  making  sugar.  Wa-me- 
gon-a-biew  rauH'  to  us  in  distress,  with  his  rather-in-law,  and  all 
his  large  Comily.  We  were  able  to  give  them  something,  but  old 
TVet-no-kwa  did  not  present  him  ten  ol'  my  largest  and  best  beaver 
skins  uithoiil  remarking,  "  these,  .inri  many  more,  have  ill  bi'en 
killed  by  my  little  son,  who  is  mneli  weaker  and  less  experieiired 
than  either  yoursell'  or  Wa-me-gon-a-biew."  She  was  not  verv 
well  phased  in  uiviiiii,  and  the  old  man  was  a  little  ashamed  t> 
receive  her  present.  Altera  lew  days,  they  lett  ns  for  ilietrading- 
lumse,  and  Waw-be-be-nais-sa  joined  us  when  we  started  in  rom- 
pany  to  jro  to  the  .Mintse  Ki\er  tradinif-honsc.  Leaves  w<'r<'  out 
.)!!  the  trees,  the    bark  peeled,  and  we  were  killino  siiii-g«;on8  in 


the 


rivers,    when  then'  came  a  snuw  more 


tl 


lan 


nee  dei 


anil 


the  frost  was  -in  severe  that  the  trees  eraeked  a>  in  the  middle 
of  V  ii.ler.  The  riv»'r  was  frozen  over,  and  many  trees  weri' 
killed 

At  the  Mouse  River  •..iding-hoiise,   the   Assinneboiiis,  ("ri»ep. 
nnd  Ojibhewnys,  were  uiiain  assetnblinc  tu  go  to  join  tlu.*  Nhin 


TA.WKR  S    NARKAfMI.. 


S7 


dans,  in  making  Avar  upon  the  A-gtilch-e-ninnc-wug,  the  people 
i  before  mentioned.  This  time  I  wished  to  have  aecom|)uiiied 
them,  and  I  said  to  the  old  woman,  '•  1  will  g^o  with  mv  niirles, 
who  are  goinjr  to  the  Mundans."  She  trifd  to  dis-^uitiie  me,  h\\. 
lindinj^  me  obstinate,  took  away  my  j^iin  and  n'occasins.  This 
opposition  rather  inereased  my  ardour,  and  I  followed  ihe  In- 
dians, barefoot  ami  unarmed,  trustinijr  tiiat  sumc  amono  iheni 
would  supply  me  ;  but  in  this  1  was  mistaken,  for  they  drove  uu; 
back,  ami  woidd  by  no  means  allow  me  to  a<'(-(im|)any  tiiem.  f 
was  irritated  and  <lissatislied,  but  I  had  no  allerMaiive  but  to  re- 
turn, and  remain  with  the  women  and  ehildren.  I  diil  not  ask 
the  old  woman  for  i.iy  gun  ajrain  ;  but  lakinif  my  traps,  I  went 
from  Innne,  and  did  m>t  niurn  until  I  had  eauirlil  beavers  enoujib 
lo  purchase  one;  but  when  1  had  done  so,  my  anxiety  to  over- 
lake  uud  aecompany  the  war-party  hail  sul)sided.  Many  of  tho 
women  they  had  left  behind,  now  be<;an  lo  be  huiiifry,  and  il 
was  not  without  lurcat  exertion  on  my  part,  and  that  of  the  ver\ 
lew  youuir  boys  and  old  nun  wlur  w,'re  left,  that  tlu  !»•  want-= 
I  ould  be  s<i|>pli('(i. 

The  war-party  .<t  leuffth  returned,  having  aceomplisheil  little 
or  m)thinj^.  We  then  left  them,  and  in  i-om,iany  with  one  nwu, 
a  relalivt  of  iNet-no-kwa,  called  VViiu-zhe-traw-inai>li-kuni.  (he 
li)at  walks  alimy;  the  shore,)  we  started  to  ^^>  to  |]ik  lliver. 
This  man  Imi!  two  wives;  the  name  of  one  was  ,Mt-sau-bis.  (gos- 
Hn'sdowii.)  He  was  also  aeeum|)anied  by  anotln-r  distint>uish« 
.(I  hunter,  eaUed  Kaii-wa-be-nit-to,  (he  that  starts  them  all.) 
Our  course  (rom  Mouse  Itiver  was  very  near  du»'  north;  and  as 
we  had  six  horses,  we  travciitd  with  consulerabh  rapidilv  ;  but 
it  was  many  <lays  i)efore  we  reached  the  head  o(  KIk  River. 
Hi  e  Wau-zhe-tiaw-inaish-kum  left  us  to  jjo  lo  thf  Missouri,  on 
a  war-party  ;  but  haii-wa-bc-nil-io  remained,  and  uave  us  al- 
ways the  timst  and  liest  ol  the  jame  he  killed.  He  directed 
me  abo  to  i;  beaver  dam  uud  poim,  at  some  ili>lance,  to  which  f 
went  one  day  at  evening,  and  havimr  sa;  down  I  lound  a  road 
which  Uie  beavers  were  then  using  to  bring  tnubir  into  tlie  poml. 
By  tins  road  I  sat  down  to  watch,  suppttotng  I  shottM  sutm  ttr*-. 
them  pass  one  way  or  the  other.  1  had  M-arce  sat  »''>wu,  when 
1  heard,  at  no  great  distance,  a  sound  which  I  kn(M^  wan  that 
mnde  by  a  wuinaa  in  dressinu  skin-*.     1  was  a  littk  alarmr'tl.  n% 


\ 


"■■"^i^M. 


8b 


iAVNER S   NAKKATIM. 


J 


W- 


W 


!• 


k  i 


I  knew  of  no  Indians  in  that  <iiiarlor,  and  was  apprclionsive  that 
some  of  an  nufriondly  tribe  niiglil  liavc  conip  to  encamp  there; 
but  being  determined  not  to  retiu-n  home  i;;norant  who  and  what, 
they  were,  I  took  my  gnn  in  my  hands,  in  the  position  whicli 
wouhl  enable  me  to  tire  immediately,  and  prorethd  eautiously 
aUmg  the  path,  to  exaniin«'.  My  eyes  w«re  ecmimoidy  directed 
consiih-rably  ahead;  but  I  had  inH  walked  far,  when  lookinir  to 
one  side,  I  saw  in  the  bushes,  close  to  my  side,  and  not  one  ste|) 
from  the  |iath,  a  naked  and  |)ainted  Indian,  lyiiitf  tiat  upon  his 
belly,  but,  like  myself,  li(ddiii[r  his  trim  in  the  attitude  of  firing. 
My  eyes  no  sooner  fell  upon  him,  than  simultaiu>ously,  and  al- 
most without  knowinif  what  I  did,  I  spranir  to  the  other  side  of 
the  path,  and  pointed  my  mm  directly  at  liim.  This  movement 
he  answered  by  a  hearty  lausili,  wliicii  innnediatcly  removed  m\ 
apprehensions,  and  he  soon  arose  an<l  addressed  me  in  the  Ojib- 
beway  lanirua<^e.  Like  myself,  he  had  supposed  no  other  In- 
dians than  bis  own  family  were,  at  that  time,  in  the  country,  and 
he  had  been  waikinii  from  \i\>  own  lodt!;e.  which  stot)d  very  neai' 
to  the  beaver  pond,  when  be  was  surprised  to  perceive  a  man 
approaching  hiuj  ilirouiih  the  buslies.  lie  had  first  perceived 
me,  and  concealed  himself,  not  know  inj^  whether  I  was  a  friend 
or  an  enemy.  After  sonu'  conv«rsalion  he  returned  home  with 
me,  and  Nel-rio-kwa  discovered  that  he  was  a  relative  of  her.-. 
The  family  of  this  man  remained  with  us  al)out  ten  days,  and 
afterwards  went  to  encamp  by  themselves,  at  a  distance. 

I  was  now  let't,  for  the  second  (iine,  with  the  prospect  of 
spendiui:  the  winter  alone,  with  the  «'Xce|)tion  of  those  of  our 
own  lamiK  ;  hut  befor<'  the  counnenceuunt  of  cold  weather  tlier« 
came  from  Mo-ne-oiiir,  (.Montreal.)  ncven  Naudoway  hunters. 
one  of  them  a  nephew  of  Net-no-kua.  They  remained  with  ii>, 
and  in  the  tall  and  earlv  part  of  winter,  we  killed  areat  lunnber.-- 
of  l)t;iver.  l"'"'  (■  (d  the  .Naudowa\s  1  surpassed  in  huulinj^,  ami 
though  they  had  teii  traps  each,  and  I  only  six.  I  caught  nntre 
beavers  than  they  did.  Tw<»  of  the  >even  men  could  lieal  me  at 
almo8t  any  lhin<r.  In  the  coiuse  of  lh«'  winter,  two  uutre  Nan- 
doways  came  to  our  canij).  who  were  in  the  interest  and  employ 
of  the  company  called  by  the  lndian>  (Ijibbewav  Way-inet-e 
goosh-she-wuii,  (the  ("hippeway  Fremhinen.)  After  these  had 
been  some  time  with  us.  the  uame  was  exhausted,  and  we  began 


9 
is 


SltfC 


t  ol 


ol'  our 
•r  tlicn 


nil  n>. 

|miml>i'r.> 

iriK,  ami 

lit   iiiort 

at  iiH'  ai 

Naii- 

.lov 


(111 
|v-inel-«' 


Bt'''" 


liai 


l)l'2«l. 


lANiNKIt  S    NAKKAllVI 


m 


to  he  hnnirry.  We  a^jjrood  all  to  po  oiu>  diiy  in  search  of  Iniflii 
lo(>s.  At  iiitllit,  all  liad  returned  exeepl  a  tall  yoiinii  man,  and  a 
very  small  old  man,  ol'  the  iNaudoways.  Next  day  tlie  tall  nuni 
tame  home,  bringing  a  new  bulliiloe  robe,  and  having  on  a  haiul- 
some  pair  oC  new  moerasiiis.  lie  said  he  had  (alien  in  with 
seven  lodires  o(  Crees ;  that  at  tirst  they  had  not  known  liini, 
and  it  was  with  <rreat  ditliculty  he  had  made  them  understand 
liim ;  but  being  received  into  one  of  the  lodges,  and  fed,  and 
treated  with  kindness,  he  had  remained  all  night.  In  the 
morning,  he  folded  up  the  bulliiloe  robe  they  had  given  him  to 
sleep  on,  and  would  lia\'e  left  it,  but  they  loid  him  they  had 
given  it  to  him,  niuv  observing,  at  the  same  lime,  that  his  moc- 
••asins  were  not  very  good,  one  of  the  w«tintni  had  given  him  a 
pair  of  new  ones.  This  kind  of  hospitality  is  much  j)rartised 
among  Indians  who  have  liad  but  little  intercourse  with  the 
whites,  and  it  is  among  the  foremost  of  the  virtues  wliich  the 
idd  men  inculcate  upon  the  minds  of  children,  in  their  evening 
conversations  ;  but  the  Naudoway  had  Ijeen  little  accustomed  to 
such  treatment,  in  tho  coniitry  from  wliicli  he  came. 

He  liad  not  been  long  at  home,  b«-i'ore  llie  idd  ni:iii  arrived, 
who  pretended  that  he  had  seen  fitly  lodges  of  Assiniu'boins, 
and  had  been  kindly  received  by  them  ;  and  alllumgh  he  had 
nothing  to  show  in  proof  of  his  assertions,  that  they  had  plenty 
of  meal,  and  were  disj)osed  to  be  very  !iiis|  it,d)le.  he  persuaded 
us,  that  we  had  belter  go  to  join  them.  In  tlu'  moniiiig  we 
were  all  ready  to  accompany  him,  but  he  said.  "1  cannot  go  yet, 
I  have  first  to  mer.d  my  moccasins."  One  of  the  young  men, 
iliat  there  might  be  no  unnecessary  delay,  gave  him  a  pair  ol 
new  moccasins;  l)iit  in  the  next  place,  be  said  he  must  cut  olfa 
piece  of  his  blanket,  and  make  liiinself  some  niitlens.  One  of 
them,  who  had  some  pieces  of  blanket,  assi.-led  him  to  makt- 
some  mittens  ;  but  Ik;  still  inv-nliil  excn-es  fordelaving  his  de- 
parture, most  of  which  resulleil  in  the  supplying,  by  some  one 
of  the  party,  some  (if  his  lillh  wants  ;  !)ut  at  length  we  began 
to  suspect  him  of  Iving,  and  having  sent  some  (Uie  to  follow  his 
trail,  we  ascertained  that  he  had  neither  travelled  far,  seen  In- 
dians, or  eaten  a  mouthful  since  he  left  home. 

Knowing  it  wouM  he  in  vain  lo  search  for  the  fifty  lodges  of 
\'»«inneb(»ins.  we  went  in  pursuit  of  the  CriM^s,    whom   onr  Nau* 

1*,' 


i 


i\ 


rul 


n 


:/ 


n 


00 


I  \\M;r.':<    NAKI!     I  n  >'. 


II- 


irf 


,*,r 


downy  li:nl  Hocii  ;  l)ul\\t>   uiicxprclrdly  iiicl    \\  ilh  aiiollit  r   haiul 
of  tlir  sanir  lril)o.      Tlics*'  wort"   slriinifcrs   In   iis,   hut  iM(|iiiiiiii; 
i'ot  their  rliicC,  uc  wciii    inlii  liis  lodirc  iind  -   '   duv  ?i.      'I'lic  wo- 
jneri  iiiiiiuMiiatcly  Imiif;  the  kctllc  civit   iIm     i      ,   aii<l   llicn    locdv 
mil  (if  a  sack  a  suhslancf  wincli  was  then  mw    and  imknown  to 
all  of  us,  and  wliicli  cxrilcd  in  our   |)ailv  •    'iisidrialdr  fiiriosit)  . 
When  I  In'  ('imd  was    |ila(t'd   btlcir  us.  .v    ;  Mnid  it    consislcd  ol 
Jittle  lislu's,  s(  arte  an  inch  Iciiii.  and  all  dI  Iiic  same  si/.c.      NVIifii 
|Mit  into  tlir   kciilc.  liny  ucrc  in  laiir*'    iim>-cs,  iVu/t'ii  loirdluj 
Tlu'Sf    little  lishrs,    with    the  lakiiiij  i'nd  ratinj;  of   « liicli  \m   al- 
tcrwards  bee  imic  I'ainiliar,  arc  Ininid  in  ~    lall  huhs  which  rciiiuiii 
uixii  in  the    >liali.»w   ponds,  crowded    toi.     Iier  in    sncdi  nii   iber^: 
that   one   nia\  ^>   >o|)    n|i  hundreds   of  ilu-ni   at    once,    with    tin 
hands.      Alter    we    had    linished   (MM    nn  al,  the  woman  who  a)i 
{leared  to  he  the  prineijial  wile  ol    the  chief,  examined  onr  moc 
rasins,  and  jjave  us  each   a    new    pair.      'I'hese  |ieople  were  on   a 
l<Mirne\.  and  soon  left  us.      We  now    determined  to  make  a  snn 
lejfwuii,  and  deposile  stieli  of  our  property  as  would  impede:   le 
ill  a  loiiij  journey,    and  no  to  the  plains    in    pursuit   of  hulfaloe 
We  ai-eoidiui^ly   fidlowcd   the  jialh  (»f   the  Crees,   and  o\»rtook 
thrill  ill  l!ie  Prairie. 

It  was  aliout  the  miildle  of  winter,  when  v\r  arri* ed  aiium;.; 
iht'iii,  and  soini  aftcrwai'ds  onr  tall  Nauilowa\  Icll  sick.  Ili^ 
I'neiid:^  ap|died  to  an  <dd  meijicinc  man  id  the  Crees,  culled  Milk 
kwali,  (the  hear,)  re<|iii'stin<;  him  to  do  soiiiethiiiir  for  his  rcdiel 
'•  (ii\r  iiie,"  said  ihc  <dd  man.  "  t(  n  heaver  >kins,  ami  I  will  ux 
my  art  to  relie\e  him."  As  we  had  hit  our  peltries  hehind,  and 
killed  hut  few  heaver  >ince  w c  started,  we  conlil  raise  only  nine  . 
lint  we  ;  ;i\  e  him  a  piece  ol  (doth,  w  hi(  h  w  as  more  than  e(|ual  in 
vuhie  t<»  one  luaver,  and  he  coii>eiited  to  henin.  He  prepared 
his  lodifc  lor  the  first  days'  practice  h(  foi(  the  pati(  nl  was  ad 
Illitled;  lie  then  h*  iiii>  hroiiuht  in,  was  seated  on  a  mal  near  tin 
lire.  Old  Mukdxwah,  who  was  a  veiitrihxpiist  of  hut  iiidillerem 
power.s,  and  a  iiiedicine  iiinn  it(  no  i>reat  fame,  imitati d,  as  w(  II 
a»  he  cuiiid,  various  S(iuiids,  niid  endeavoured  to  make  tl>  >m 
staiidiiij«  In  Ik  lieve  they  |)roceede(l  from  the  hr«'iist  of  tlie  .sick 
man.  At  length  he  said,  he  Ik  ird  the  sound  <d  had  lire  in  the 
breast  of  the  .\aiidowa>,  nnd  |>uttinir  one  linitd  to  his  breast,  tin 
(ithrr  iind  liis  month    to  the  back,   he  eoiitinueil   for  somn  time 


\~M 


—      'I^P^^^M 


VSNLU  S     NAKUAin  I. 


yi 


ih  aiiolluv  baiul 
IS.  I)ut  iiKiniiiny, 
ilusui.  Tlic  wo- 
,    iiiid   llu'ii    Uxilv 

;m(l  iinkiitnvii  to 
ilciiiWW  ciiriosily- 
III  it  (•oiisistcd  ot 
nine  M/.<'-  Willi' 
,  lio/.*'ii  luirrllui 
r  (»!'  wliifh  w  «t- 
)li  s  whicli  niuaJM 

ill   :,ii(li  im  ,ibri>; 
it    Diuf,   with   thr 
•  womiui  \\l«>  iM' 
xiiiitiiitil  our  mt)t 

l.(li|llf  W»T«'  «»>    " 
1,  (I  ii>  iiiiiKf  a  Sim 
,  wniild  iiiipi'tlt    "' 
(llMlil    I'l    liull'ultM 
,.,<,  anil  uvcrHiuk 

wr   ariH'il  »<"<'"!^ 
,y  l.ll   si.k.     Hi^ 
("nfs,  nilli'l  Muk 
iiiif  lin"  111!*  ii'lif' 
MS.  aitil  I  will  »'■'' 
Itiits  l)rliiu(l,  iiud 
,1  raise  uiily  nine 
more  tlian  nmal  in 
mil.      lie    |ne|mr«'(l 
(■  jiatieiU    was   ad- 
iiii  a  mat  near  tin 
1  nC  Iml  iiidi»Vereiii 
e,  iiiiilaled,  as  \v»  11 
icd    to    inakt'  til  'M 
hreasl   ol    llif   si«k 
I  ni  bad   liif  in  llir 
,i  to  Ids  liieast,  tin 
I. led   for  some  tiio-- 


)ilo\\in£r  and  ndthinii,  wlierilie,  as  if  by  aceidcni,  dropped  a  iitlli 
ball  upon  theirronnd.  Allt  r  auaiiil»lo\x  i!i<rand  rniibin^.alternateK 
dro|)pini>  the  little  ball,  and  ndibinir  it  between  bis  hands,  lie  at 
ienirlli  threw  i'  into  the  lire,  where  it  inirned,  with  a  little  w  hi/ 


lil. 


/iiiit  noi-c,  Ml»e  iianip  pnwite 


This  did  no!  surprise  me  at  all. 
us  I  saw  lie  had  taken  the  precaution  to  sprinkle  a  little  pnwdcr 
on  that  part  of  the  lioor  of  the  lodife  wlicri'  the  ball  tell.  Per- 
c(>ivin<f,  prid)ably,  iiiat  what  lie  bad  now  dime  was  not  likely  to 
prove  satisliietory  to  his  employers,  he  pretended  that  there  \\a^ 
a  snake  in  the  breast  ol  the  sick  man,  w  hieh  he  eoidd  not  renu)V( 
(ill  tin'  I'olhiwinj^  day;  when  with  similar  preparations,  ami 
-imilar  mmnmeries,  be  seemed  to  draw  i>  ol  the  body  of  tin 
"iek  iniiti,  a  small  snake.  One  ol  his  i<.>Md^  be  kc-pt  for  som< 
liiiie  on    the  plaee  I'roin  whii  li  be  pret<  i  to   have   drawn   tin 

-iiake,  as  be  said  the    hole    eoiild    not    t\<'         muediately.      Tli( 
-inike  he  refused  (udeslroy  ;  i)nt  laid  it  r.  il\  nside  for  prcsei- 

(alion,  lest,  as  be  said,  it  slionid  tsvl  into  MunebiMly  else.  Tbi^ 
rll-cimdmted  impi»ition  did  not  fail  to  excite  the  ridicule  of  the 
Vandoways,  and  bad  no  perce|Uilile  ellect  upon  the  sick  man 
riiey  soon  learned  to  imitate  bis  several  noises,  and  made  him 
a  subject  for  sarcasm  and  ridicnic.  Smne  of  ihe  more  sen-^iblc 
and  rcspectid)le  men  amonu  the  Crees,  advised  ns  to  lia\c  im- 
>liint;  uuivv  to  say  to  Miik-kwab,  as  be  was  oteemed  but  a  fool 
tin<mi>  them. 

It  was  altmit    this   time  that  I  had  some  ditliciilly   with  a  Nan 
downy  Indian,    \\\u)  was  hmiliiiir  for  the  Ojibbeway    NN  ay -nn-ta- 
j^oo-sbe-wiiir.      He  bad  arrived   since    I    had   in  the  country,  and 
his  rJLrlil   to  hunt  in   any  part  of  it   was  certainly  no  better  than 
niim'.      He  had,  it)    one  or  two   instances,  complained  of  me  for 


bmitinu  where  he  said  i  had  no  ri^bl  to  hunt 
i 


llavii 


i<r  now  fiMim 


\  >:;ani;    oi    iieavers,    I    set    m\  traps  lor  them,  am 


I,  as   usual,  leli 


iliem 


foil. 


till  tl 


le  next  da\ , 


O 


n  i^oiiiir  mxt  morniii 


ir  I  f. 


oiiiM  III   Had 


owcil  my  trail,  taken   up  all  my   traps,    thrown    them  into  the 
low,    and  set    his  own  in  place    id   them.      He    bad  caui^bl  but 


line 


beaver,  which  I  did  not    hesitate  to 


r\  home 


ll 


I  row  III 


ill 


IS  t 


ia|)s  in    the 


snow. 


I 


as   in\   ow  II. 


-■el  mine  ai>ain  as  l>e- 


l<n°«'.  Till'  allair  soon  became  public,  iml  all  ihe  band,  even  lii^ 
f)Wii  friends,  tin  Naiidoways,  sided  against  him,  and  assured  me 
they  would  Mipiiort  n\v  \x\  the  coiirsr  \  had  taken.     In  allaii>  of 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
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Sciences 
Coiporation 


aa  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MStO 

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f 


I'/  li  n  n.f 


k  ' 


94 


I  A\M;K  a     NAUUA'llVl.- 


llii.s  liiiul,  llu;  customs  of  the  tribo  are  as  a  law  to  the  Indiau^, 
and  any  o;ie  who  ventures  to  depart  I'roin  them,  can  expect 
neitfier  support  nor  countenance.  It  is  rare  that  oppression  or 
injustice  in  allairs  of  private  right,  between  man  and  man,  taiie 
place  among  the  Indians. 

We  staid  about  one  month  in  the  prairie,  then  returned  to  the 
lodge  where  we  had  left  the  old  woman,  thence  to  our  trading- 
house  on  Elk  River.  Here  a  lodge  of  Tus-kwaw-go-mces,  from 
Canada,  came  into  our  neighbourhood.  I  had  now  separated 
from  the  Naudoways,  and  was  living  by  myself.  When  1  tirst 
visited  the  Tus-kwaw-go-niees,  and  went  into  tlieir  lodge,  I  did 
not  know  who  they  were.  The  man  presently  went  out,  brought 
in  my  snow-shoes,  and  placed  theni  by  the  lire  to  dry ;  finding 
they  were  a  little  out  of  repair,  he  directed  an  old  man  to  mend 
them.  He  then  proposed  to  go  and  hunt  with  me,  until  they 
fihould  be  repaired.  He  killed,  in' the  course  of  the  day,  several 
beavers,  all  of  which  he  gave  me.  The  kindness  of  this  liimily  of 
Tus-kwaw-go-mees  continued  as  long  as  we  remained  near  them. 
Their  language  is  like  that  of  the  Ojibbeways,  differing  from  it 
only  as  the  Cree  differs  from  that  of  the  Mus-ke-goes. 

When  the  sugar  season  arrived,  I  went  to  Elk  Hiver,  and  made 
my  camp  about  two  miles  below  tlfc  fort.  The  sugar  trees,  called 
by  the  Indians  she-she-ge-ma-winzh,  are  of  the  same  kind  as  are 
connnonly  found  in  tlu!  i)ottom  lands,  on  the  I'pper  Mississippi, 
and  are  called  l)y  the  whites  "  river  maple."  They  are  large, 
but  scattered;  for  this  reason  we  made  two  camps,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  ri\er.  I  remained  by  myself  in  one,  and  in  the  other 
were  the  old  woman  and  the  little  children.  While  1  was  making 
sugar,  I  killed  plenty  of  birds,  ducks,  geese,  and  beaver.  There 
was  n»!ur  my  camp  a  large  l)rine  sj)ring,  at  which  the  traders  used 
lo  make  salt.  The  spring  is  about  thirty  feet  in  diameler,  the 
water  is  blue,  and,  with  the  longest  poles,  no  bottom  «'an  be 
i'ound.  It  is  near  llie  bank  of  the  I'lk  River,  between  the  Assin- 
ueboin  and  Sas-kow-ja-wun,  about  twenty  da\s'  journey  from  the 
trading-house  at  Lake  Winnipt-g.  There  are,  in  that  part  of  the 
country,  many  brine  springs  ami  salt  lakes,  but  1  have  seen  no 
other  as  large  as  this. 

At  this  trading  pttsi  I  met  a  gentleman  who  took  nuich  notice 
of  iiic,  and  tried  lo  persuade  me  to  accompany  him  to  England; 


'9 

■i 

bull 

not  b 

of  tlu 

ness 

:'l 

Auioi 

the  .>i 

as  us 

hunts 

T 

they  ( 

gallon 

\,     '"^ 


l\NNEJif>    NAKKAilVI,. 


'.»:{ 


lul  made 

••s,  callefl 

111  as  an 

4sissip|)i. 

n;  lars[i', 

on  each 

"ic  otiici 

making 

TIUTC. 

rs  used 
tr,  llic 
ran  be 
■  Assin- 
runi  the 
I  ol'  the 
seen  no 

I  notice 
!^i  Inland; 


but  I  Was  apprehensive  he  might  leave  me  there,  and  that  I  should 
not  be  able  to  reacli  my  friends  in  the  United  Slates,  even  if  an)' 
of  tliem  were  living.  I  also  felt  attached  to  hunting,  as  a  busi- 
)iess  and  an  ;Mnusement ;  therefore  1  declined  his  invitation. 
Among  other  Indians  who  assembled  at  this  tniding-liouse,  in 
the  -ipring,  came  our  old  companion  and  friend,  IV-shau-ba.  and, 
as  usual,  they  expended  the  products  of  their  winter  and  spring 
hunts,  their  sugar,  «fcc.  for  whiskey.  After  they  had  drank  all 
<hey  couhl  pun  base,  old  >iet-no-kwa  gave  them  an  additional  ten 
gallon  keg,  which  she  had  hid  the  year  before  uuder  the  ashes 
back  of  the  trader's  house.  Their  long  deliauch  was  attended 
by  mischievous  quarrels,  and  followed  by  hunger  and  poverty. 
Home  one  proposed,  as  a  method  of  relieving  the  pressure  of  hun- 
ger, now  bec(uning  severe,  that  a  hunting  nuitch  should  be  made, 
to  see  who,  of  all  those  that  were  assembled,  could  take,  in  one 
day,  the  greatest  number  of  rabbits.  In  ihis  strife  I  surpassed 
Pe-shau-ba,  who  had  been  one  of  my  first  instructors  in  hunting  : 
but  he  was  yet  far  my  superior  in  fakin^r  large  animals. 

From  this  trading-house  we  returiu'd  l)y  the  way  of  Swan 
River,  and  the  \Ie-nau-ko-nos-keeg,  towards  Red  River. 
About  the  Me-nau-ko-nos-keeg  and  Ais-sug-se-bee,  or  (Mam 
River,  whose  head  waters  interlock,  we  stopped  for  some  time 
to  trap  beaver,  beinir  assisted  by  a  young  num  called  iNau-b.i- 
shish,  who  had  joined  us  some  time  before  ;  but  at  length  falling 
in  with  a  trace  <mi  which  Indians  had  passed  oidy  two  days  be- 
fore, I  determined  to  try  to  see  them.  Leaving  the  <dd  wo- 
man and  the  faniily  with  Nau-ba-shish,  I  mounted  my  best, 
horse,  aiul  followed  the  path  through  the  prairie.  After  a  few 
hours  I  passed  a  place  where  had  been  a  lodge  the  day  beHne, 
and  my  horse  was  steppinix  ovir  a  log  which  lay  across  the 
path,  when  a  prairie  hen  flew  from  umler  it.  The  horse  being 
friirlitened.  threw  me,  and  I  fell  upon  the  lou,  afterwards  upon 
the  ground  ;  but  as  I  still  held  the  bridle  rein,  the  horse  stepped 
with  his  lore  foot  upon  my  breast.  For  scune  hours  I  was  not 
able  to  get  on  my  horse ;  when  I  at  last  succeeded,  I  determined 
still  to  follow  on  after  the  liulians,  as  1  believed  myself  nearer 
to  them  than  to  my  own  lodire.  When  I  arrived  aiuouii  them  I 
enuld  nut  upeuk ;  but  they  perceived  that  1  had  bec-ii  hurt,  ami 


) 


►  *;'«<  mw  I  1^.  w  ■-«».■.«-  -  .__,,^ 


^._aaBif«<y 


I  I 


va 


tanner's    NARRATIVr.. 


treated  mc  with  kindness.     From  this  hurt,  which  was  very  sc- 
Aore,  I  have  never  since  recovered  entirely. 

A  part  of  my  ol)ject  in  visiting  this  band,  had  been  to  try  to 


hear  sometiiinif  from  Wa- 


but  thev  had   not  met 


-gon-a-oK 

witli  iiim.  I  now  determined  to  leave  the  old  woman  at  Menau- 
konoskeeg,  and  go  to  Ked  River  by  myself.  I  lia<l  four  horses, 
one  of  which  was  a  very  licet  and  l)eautiful  one,  being  considered 
the  best  out  of  one  hundred  and  eighty ,  which  a  war-party  of 
Crees,  Assinneboins,  and  Ojibbeways,  had  recently  brought  from 
the  Fall  IntMans.  In  this  excursion  they  had  been  absent  seven 
months;  they  had  fallen  njion  and  destroyed  one  village,  and 
taken  one  hundred  and  fifty  scalps,  besides  prisoners. 

Ten  (lays  after  I  left  Menaidvonoskeeg  on  this  horse,  I  ar- 
rived at  the  Mouse  Hiver  trading-hcvise.  Here  I  learned  that 
Wa-me-gon-a-biew  was  at  Penibinali,  on  Red  River.  Mr.  M'Kee 
sent  a  man  to  show  mc  the  road  to  the  head  of  the  Pend)inah  Ri- 
ver, wlieri  I  found  Ainel),  a  trader  with  whom  I  was  well  ac- 
quainted. One  day's  journey  from  this  house,  I  found  the  lodgc' 
of  the  father-in-law  ol'  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  but  I  saw  nothing  ol 
my  brother,  and  the  old  man  did  not  receive  mc  kindly.  He  was 
living  will)  a  party  of  about  one  hundred  lodges  of  Crees.  Per- 
ceiving that  something  was  not  as  1  could  have  wished,  I  went  U< 
spend  the  night  with  an  old  Cree  whom  I  had  seen  before.  Li  tht 
morning,  the  old  man  said  to  me,  "  I  am  afraid  they  will  kill  your 
horse,  go  and  see  how  they  are  abusing  him."  I  went  as  he  di- 
rected, and  found  that  a  parcel  of  young  men  and  boys  had 
thrown  my  horse  down  upon  the  ground,  and  were  beating  him. 
When  I  canu'  uj),  I  found  some  were  holding  him  by  the  head, 
while  »uie  num  was  htandinu'  on  his  body  and  bealinii  him.  To 
this  n)an  I  said,  '*  my  Iriend,*  you  must  come  dowi. ;''  he  an- 
swered, '*  I  wont."  '*  I  shall  help  you  down,"  said  F,  and  j)usli- 
ing  him  down,  I  to(d\  the  bndle  fnun  those  who  held  him,  aiul 
led  him  home  ;  but  he  had  received  an  injury  from  which  he 
could  never  recover. 

I   now  en<|uired   the   cause  of  this   unexpect(>d  and  very  un- 
friendly lrea(nienl,and  learned  that  it  was  on  account  of  Wa-me- 


I 


f  hi  f 


♦  Neoiljrp- 
Innjiung*',  ■ 
(crxlcd. 


'V  fripiul,  is coninionly  uwd  in  Iricudly  mnvprKntion ;  Iml,  ns  in  ow 
\  usi'cl  with  a  |icciiliur  tone  and  uianncr,  when  a  thrrjtt  is  in- 


/evy  !><•- 

0  try  to 
not  met 
Menau- 
r  horses, 
nsidered 
party  of 
jIU  from 
nt  seven 
age,  and 

rse,  I  ar- 
•ned  that 
r.  M'Kce 
binali  Ri- 

1  well  ac- 
the  lodge 
otlihig  ol 

.  He  was 
■es.     Per- 
,  I  wentt>' 
re.  In  the 
1  kill  your 
L  as  he  (li- 
viys  had 
lintr  him. 
the  head, 
nn.      lo 
;"'  he  an- 
nul |)nsli- 
lini,  and 
which   he 

\('ry  un- 
,1  VVu-mt- 

iiii.ii!*  iiifrtii- 
thrrnt  is  in- 


iANNERS    NAKKAiMVi;. 


[)o 


>fon-a-biew',  who  had  turned  away  his  lornier  wile,  and  quarrelled 
with  his  father-in-law.  In  tins  <)iiarrel,  tiie  old  nmn's  Ixtrse  and 
dog  had  been  killed ;  which  injury  his  young  friends  were  visit- 
ino-  upon  my  horse.  The  origin  of  this  quarrel  seemed  to  me  to 
be  such  as  to  leave  some  appearaiu-e  of  right  on  the  part  of  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew.  He  had  treated  his  wite  as  well  as  is  usual  among 
them,  and  only  parted  with  her  bt:cause  her  father  nfiistd  to  part 
with  her  ;  insisting  that  Wa-nu!-gon-a-l)iew  should  acconqjimy 
him  in  all  his  movements.  Rather  than  do  this,  lu;  chose  to  leave 
his  wife  altogether,  and  had  done  so  in  a  peaceable  numner,  when 
her  relatives  showed  a  disposition  to  oiler  him  some  molestation. 
As  I  was  alone,  '  feared  they  might  follow  me,  and  try  to  do  me 
some  injury  at  my  next  encampment;  hut  they  did  not,  and  on 
the  following  day  I  arrived  at  the  place  where  Wa-me-gon-a-bieM' 
was  now  living  with  his  new  wife.  The  old  man,  his  father-in- 
law,  whom  I  had  seen  before,  met  me  outside  of  the  lodge,  and 
was  surprised  to  hear  that  J  had  come  from  Menaidionoskego,  the 
distance  being  greater  than  they  usually  go  by  themselves  in  that 
<ountry. 

Here  I  remained  four  days,  hunting  with  my  friends ;  then  I 
slarted,  accompanied  by  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  and  liis  wife,  lo  i<- 
turn.  We  went  to  the  village  wheVe  they  had  tried  to  kill  ni) 
horse;  and  though ^he  old  man  had  moved  lo  some  distance,  he 
soon  heard  of  us,  and  came  in  accompanied  by  his  brothers.  We 
slept  at  a  lodge  near  ihe  trader's  lent.  I  intended  to  have  watched, 
as  I  was  apprehensive  that  they  would  attempt  either  to  roi)  or 
otherwise  injure  us;  hut  ihrouirh  fatigue,  I  fell  asleej).  Late 
at  night  I  was  waked  by  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  who  said  the  old  man 
iiad  been  in,  and  taken  his  gun  frcun  over  his  head.  He  admit- 
ted that  hv  was  awake  when  the  old  man  entered,  and  had  watched 
him  from  under  his  blanket  until  he  went  out  with  the  gun.  I  re- 
proached him  for  pusilanimity,  telling  him  he  deserved  to  lose  his 
gim  if  he  wouhl  suffer  an  old  man  lo  lake  it  away  while  his  eyes 
were  open.  Nevertheless,  I  made  an  attempt,  though  an  unsuc- 
cessful one,  to  recover  the  gun. 

Before  we  reached  Mouse  River,  my  horse  had  become  so  poor 
ami  feeble,  that  even  the  woman  could  not  ride  him.  We  rested 
two  days,  and  then  went  on.  We  had  sull'ered  much  from  liuiiirer. 
having  for  many  days  killed  only  one  po(u-  buHhloe,  when  we  ne  t 


; 


■yf^,j#m 


96 


lANNER  S  NARKATIVL. 


I  ■  ■ 


^A 


with  a  small  band  of  Crces,  under  a  cliief  railed  O-ge-mali-wah- 
shish,  a  Cree  word,  meaning  chief's  son.  Instead  of  relieving 
our  wants,  they  treated  us  in  an  unfriendly  manner,  and  I  over- 
heard them  talking  of  killing  iis,  on  account  of  some  old  quarrel 
with  a  band  of  Ojibbeways.  They  would  sell  us  nothing  but  a 
small  badger,  and  we  lost  no  time  in  escaping  as  far  as  we  could 
from  them.  We  were  starved  for  two  days  nujre,  when  we  met 
an  Ojibbeway,  called  Wawb-uche-chawk,  (the  white  crane,)  wlu> 
had  very  lately  killed  a  fat  moose. 

With  this  man  we  lived  about  a  month  ;  during  all  which  time 
we  had  plenty  of  food,  and  slept  in  his  lodge.  He  was  moving 
in  the  same  direction  tliat  we  were  ;  he  did  not  leave  us  until  we 
arrived  at  Rush  Lake  River.  The  old  wonuin  had  gone  from 
the  trading  house  where  I  left  her,  to  live  with  Indians,  at  the  dis- 
tance of  four  days.  My  three  horses,  which,  before  starting,  I 
had  fettered  and  turned  out,  that  they  might  become  accustomed 
to  the  place,  had  been  neglected,  and  were  now  dead ;  notwith- 
standing I  had  given  very  particular  charge  to  Nct-no-kwa  to  take 
off  the  fetters  at  the  comnieiicenient  of  winter;  but  she  had  neg- 
lected it.  My  horse  which  I  had  rode  to  Red  River,  was  also 
dead,  and  I  had  none  left.  INet-no-kwa  having  apparently  relin- 
i[uished  her  claim  to  me,  and  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  now  leaving  me. 
I  remained  for  some  time  entirely  alone,  about  the  trading  house. 
The  trader,  whose  name  was  M'Glees,  at  length  took  notice  of 
me,  and  invited  me  to  live  with  him.  He  said  so  much  to  induce 
me  to  leave  the  Indians,  that  I  felt  sometimes  inclined  to  follow 
his  advice  ;  but  whenever  I  thought  of  remaining  long  at  the  tra- 
ding house,  I  found  an  intolerable  irksomeness  attending  it.  I  fell 
an  inclination  t(t  s])end  all  my  tiuie  in  hunting,  and  a  strong  dislike 
fo  the  less  exciting  emj)loyments  of  the  men  about  a  trading 
house. 

At  the  head  of  th<>  Menaukonoskego  river,  was  a  trading  house. 
Mhich  I  started  to  visii,  in  company  with  five  Frenchmen  and  one 
Ojibbeway  woman,  sent  by  Mr.  M'Cilees.  We  were  furnished 
only  \  ith  enough  meat  for  one  meal ;  all  of  which  we  ate  on  the 
lirst  night  after  we  started.  About  the  middle  of  the  third  day, 
we  came  to  a  small  creek  of  salt  water;  and  on  the  summit  of  a 
little  hill  by  the  side  of  it,  we  saw  a  man  sitting.  We  went  up  to 
him.  but  h(.  onve  no  answer  to  our  questions ;  we  thon  took  hold 


i.SJ^BBte' 


TAXN'KR  S    NAKKA'llVK. 


97 


li-wali- 
'lievin^f 
1  over- 

ig  but  a 

^e  could 

we  met. 

le,)  who 

ich  timo 
moving 
until  wr 
)n('  from 
ii  tlie  dis- 
tarting,  T 
customed 
notwith- 
vu  to  take 
had  nog- 
was  also 
Illy  n-lin- 
aving  mt". 
ng  house, 
notice  of 
l()  induce 
to  f■ollo^\' 
t  the  tra- 
it.  I  fell 
ng  dislike 
a  trading 


and  tried  to  rouse  him  by  shaking,  but  we  found  him  siilVened  bj- 
the  cold  ;  and  when  we  took  our  hands  off  him,  lie  tumbled  to 
the  ground  as  if  lie  had  been  frozen  entirely  stiff.  His  breath  still 
came  and  went,  but  his  limbs  were  no  longer  flexible,  and  he  ap- 
peared in  most  respects  like  one  dead.  Beside  him  lay  his  small 
kettle,  his  bag,  containing  steel  and  flint,  his  moccasin  owl,  and 
one  pair  of  moccasins.  We  tried  all  the  means  in  our  |)o\ver  to 
vesuscilate  him,  but  all  in  vain.  Kegarding  him  as  one  dead,  I 
advised  the  Frenchnieu  to  return  with  him  to  the  trading  house 
from  which  we  came,  that  lie  might  be  properly  buried.  They 
did  so, and  I  learned  at'terwards  that  he  ceased  breathing  an  hour  or 
two  after  they  started.  It  appeared  that  he  had  been  sent  awa\ 
J'rom  the  tradina:  house  at  the  head  of  the  river,  as  too  indolent 
to  be  sutlered  to  remain.  He  had  started  almost  destitute  of  pro- 
visions, and  come  some  distance  to  Wa-me-gon-a-biew's  lodge. 
Wa-me-gon-a-biew  had  fed  him,  and  offered  him  plenty  of  pro- 
visions to  take  with  him  ;  but  he  declined,  saying  he  should  not 
liave  occasion  for  it.  He  was  then  very  much  enfeebled,  and  liad 
been  about  two  days  i.i  coming  the  short  distance  to  the  place 
where  we  had  found  him.  After  they  started  willi  him,  I  went 
on  with  the  Ojibbeway  woman,  and  soon  arrived  at  Wa-me-gon- 
a-biew's. 

I  had  remained  here  about  a  month,  hunting  with  my  brother, 
when  Net-no-kwa  arrived,  having  come  in  search  of  me.  Wa-me- 
ixon-a-biew  went  by  my  direction,  to  a  place  on  Clam  Kiver,  to 
hunt  beaver,  and  I  relumed  with  Net-no-kwa  to  Menaukonos- 
keeg,  where  we  made  sugar.  There  were  ten  tires  of  us  together  ; 
and  after  the  sugar  making  was  over,  we  all  went  to  liunt  beavers 
in  concert.  In  hunts  of  this  kind,  the  proceeds  are  sometimes 
ccpially  divided  ;  but  in  this  instance  every  man  retained  what  he 
had  l^illed.  In  three  days  I  ccdlected  as  many  skins  as  I  could 
carry.  But  in  thes.  distant  and  hasty  hunts,  little  meat  could  be 
lirought  in.  and  the  whole  band  was  soon  suffering  of  hunger. 
Many  of  the  hunters,  and  I,  amon^r  others,  for  want  of  food,  lie- 
lame  extremely  weak,  and  unable  to  hunt  far  from  home.  One 
day,  when  the  ice  in  the  jionds  was  covered  midling  deep  with 
water,  I  reach.  J  a  place  about  a  mile  distant  from  camp,  and  in  a 
low  swamp  I  discovered  fresli  moose  signs.     I  followed  up  the 


5«»» 


IWSEU  s  NAi'.KAj  i\  r:. 


i,m '  i 


'  -l» 


■\i 


!;'1,.I   iA 


Ifl 


ii;  ■    :'  I 


It 


% 


m^ 


animal,  and  killed  it ;  and  as  it  was  tlie  first,  it  was  made  a  least 
for  tJm  whole  band,  and  all  devonrod  in  a  singlo  day. 

Soon  afterwards,  all  the  Indians  came  down,  in  two  days'  join 
iiey,  to  the  mouth  of  the  river,  where  we  were  joined  by  Wa-me- 
gon-a-biew,  who  had  made  a  very  successful  hunt  on  Clam  River. 
We  stopped  at  the  trading  house,  one  mile  from  the  lake,  and  re- 
mained here  drinking  until  our  peltries  were  all  sold.  Then  wt 
started,  accompanied  otdy  by  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  to  come  down 
to  the  mouth  of  the  river.  The  distance  was  so  short,  that  we 
did  not  take  the  dogs  on  board  the  canoes  ;  us  they  ran  along  the 
:shore,  they  started  an  elk,  and  drove  him  into  the  water  in  the 
lake,  whence  we  chased  hiui  on  shore  with  the  canoe,  and  killed 
lum  on  the  beach. 

About  this  time,  we  met  with  an  old  Ottawwaw  chief,  called 
Wa-ge-to-tah-jrun,  (he  that  has  a  bell.)  more  commonly  called 
Wa-ge-toat.  He  was  a  relatii  e  of  Net-no-kwa  ;  and  had  with  him 
at  that  time,  three  lodges  and  two  wives.  One  of  liis  sous  had  alsc 
two  wives.  With  him  we  remaijied  two  months ;  and  almost 
every  morning,  as  he  was  going  out,  he  calhnl  me  to  accompam 
him  to  his  hunt.  Whenever  he  hunted  with  me,  he  gave  me  all, 
or  the  greater  part  of  what  he  killoil.  If  e  took  mtu'li  ])ains  to  tear  1 1 
me  how  to  take  moose  and  other  animals  which  are  difficult  ti- 
kill.  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  with  his  wife,  left  us  here,  and  went  tn 
Red  River. 

There  is  an  opinion  ])revalent  among  tlie  Indians,  that  tin 
nioos(?,  among  flu;  methods  of  self-preservation  with  which  he 
seems  better  acquainted  than  almost  any  other  animal,  has  tin 
power  of  remaining  for  a  long  time  inider  water.  Two  men  oi 
the  band  of  Wa-sre-lo-tah-gun,  whom  I  knew  perfectly  well,  and 
considered  very  good  and  credible  Indians,  after  a  long  day's  ab- 
sence on  a  hunt,  came  in.  an<l  stated  that  they  had  chased  a  moosr 
into  a  small  poml,  that  they  had  seen  him  go  to  the  mi<ldle  of  it. 
and  disappear ;  and  then  choosiuir  positions,  from  which  lhe\ 
could  see  every  part  of  the  circuinlerence  of  the  pond,  smoked, 
and  waited  until  near  evening;  during  all  which  time,  they  could 
see  no  motion  of  the  water,  or  other  indication  of  the  position  ol 
the  moose.  At  length,  beinu'  discouraged,  they  had  abandoned 
all  hope  of  taking  him,  and  returned  iiome.  Not  long  afterwards. 
I  ame  a  stditarv  hunter  loaded  with  meal,  who  related,  that  haviiiu 


,/ 


.  I- 


•ftt*,^^-  •■*— -  ^  ''J 


lAWKItS    N.VRilAIUl,, 


9Vt 


ihkI 

wm  '\ 

iDH 

IH 

^:  IHl 

1^ 

«^'  ^mU 

H  . 

wH^^l 

■■ ' 

7  mi 

•ffl-:' 

ef,  callcu 
ily  calU'f^ 
with  him 
s  hail  alsc 
ii(\  ahiiost 
ccompaiu 

ivo  me  al'> 
ns  to  teai-l* 
(liiricuU  li 
lul  went  t" 

lis,  that  till 
which   hr 
al,  has  th< 
jwo  men  «^l 
ly  well,  and 
iiir  (lay's  all- 
ied a  moosr 
niddle  of  it- 
Iwliieh   the\ 
1(1,  smoked. 
|-,  they  could 
position  o1 
I  abandoned 
afterwards. 
Ihal  hiuin;. 


>l)ll(J^^cd  the  track  of  a  moose  for  some  distance,  he  had  traced  it 
fo  the  pond  l)efore  mentioned  ;  nut  havino-  also  discovered  the 
Tracks  of  two  men,  made  at  tin-  same  time  us  lliose  of  tlie  moose,  he 
concluded  they  must  have  killed  it.  Nevertheless,  approacliinf! 
cautiously  to  the  margin  of  the  pond,  he  sat  down  to  rest.  Pre- 
sently he  saw  tlie  moose  rise  slowly  in  the  centre  of  the  pond, 
which  was  not  very  deej),  and  wade  toward  ll;"  shore  where  he 
was  sittino.  When  he  came  surticieiuly  near,  he  shot  him  in  the 
water.  The  Indians  consider  the  moose  shyer  and  more  difficult 
to  take  than  any  other  animal.  He  is  more  viffilant,  and  his 
senses  more  acute,  than  those  of  the  buftiiloe  or  caribou.  He  is 
lleeter  than  the  (dk,  and  nu)re  ])rudent  and  crafty  than  the  ante- 
lope. In  the  most  violent  storm,  when  the  wind,  and  the  thun- 
dii)-,  and  the  fallino  timber,  are  making  the  loudest  and  most  in- 
cessant roar,  if  a  man,  either  with  his  foot  or  his  hand,  breaks  the 
smallest  dry  limb  in  the  forest,  the  moose  will  hear  it ;  and  though 
lie  does  not  always  run,  he  ceases  eating,  and  roiises  his  atten- 
tion to  all  sounds.  If  in  the  course  of  an  hour,  or  thereabouts, 
the  man  neither  moves,  nor  makes  the  least  noise,  the  animal  may 
begin  to  feed  again,  but  does  not  forget  what  he  has  heard,  and  is 
for  many  hours  move  vigilant  than  before. 

VVa-ge-to-tah-gtm,  the  chief  with  whom  we  were  living,  took 
every  opportunity  to  instruct  me  as  to  the  habits  of  the  moose 
and  other  animals,  and  showed  great  pleasure  when  my  exertions 
in  the  chase  were  crowned  with  success.  As  we  were  now  about 
fo  part  from  him,  he  called  out  all  the  young  hunters  to  accom- 
jiany  him  for  one  day  ;  several  young  women  went  also.  Hf 
killed  a  fat  buck  moose,  which  he  gave  to  me. 

The  country  betw(!en  Lake  Winneiieg  and  Hudson's  Bay,  is 
low  and  swampy  ;  and  is  the  region  of  the  caribou.  More  to  the 
west,  towards  the  Assinneboin  and  Haskawjawun,  is  t'le  prairie 
country,  where  are  found  elks  and  bulUiloe.  The  ca  ,'i).i  is  not 
found  among  the  elk,  nor  the  bitter  amomr  tin;  former. 


.    I 


^rf*^ 


1  •'        V> 

iPHi 


■tf: 


•:m 


r'l!'' 


MM  I 


)ANNf,K  S    NMiRMlVT.. 


*     !l 


CHAPTER  VII. 

1  ivorivt;  a  proposal  from  a  chief  to  marry  liis  daughter — thoft  ami  drunkenness — 
iiiauiu'r  of  pursuing  the  elk  on  foot — disease,  and  great  mortality  ainoni;  the 
beaver — seeoiid  oiler  of  marriage  from  an  A-go-kwa — liaimted  encampmcntj 
called  the  "  |)lace  of  the  two  dead  men" — Indian  courtship — ihstressing  sick- 
ness— insanity  and  attempt  at  suicide — gambling — several  otli'rs  of  young  wo- 
men in  marriage — my  courtship  and  marriage  with  Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwo,  (the 
red  sky  of  the  morning.) 

The  spring  having  now  come,  we  returned  by  the  way  of  our 
old  sugar  camp,  towards  Menaukonoskego  ;  but  as  I  disliked 
to  be  with  the  Indians  in  their  seasons  of  (h'unkenness,  I  dis- 
suaded the  old  woman  from  accompanying  them  to  the  trading- 
house.  I  talked  to  her  of  the  foolishness  of  wasting  all  our  pel- 
tries in  purchasing  what  was  not  only  useless,  but  hurtful  and 
poisonous  to  us,  and  was  happy  to  find  that  I  had  Miflucnce 
enough  with  her  to  take  her  immediately  to  the  place  I  had  se- 
lected for  my  hunting  camp.  She  went  to  see  Wa-ge-tote,  to 
lake  leave  of  iiim  ;  but  when  she  returned,  I  readily  perceived  by 
her  manner  that  something  inuisual  had  passed.  Presently  sho 
took  me  to  one  side,  and  began  to  say  to  me,  '*  My  son,  you  sec 
that  I  am  now  become  old;  I  am  scarce  able  to  make  you  moc- 
casins, to  dress  and  preserve  all  your  skins,  and  do  all  that  is 
needful  about  your  lodije.  You  are  now  about  taking  your 
place  as  a  man  and  a  himter,  and  it  is  right  you  should  have 
some  one  who  is  young  and  strong,  to  look  after  your  property, 
and  take  care  of  your  lodge.  Wa-ge-tote,  who  is  a  good  man, 
and  one  respected  by  all  the  Indians,  will  give  you  his  daughter. 
You  will  thus  gain  a  j)owerful  friend  and  protector,  who  will  be 
able  to  assist  us  in  times  of  difficulty,  and  I  shall  be  relieved  from 
much  anxiety  and  care  for  our  family."  Much  more  she  said, 
in  the  same  strain  ;  but  I  told  her,  without  hesitation,  that  I 
would  not  comply  with  her  recpiest.  I  had  as  yet  thought  little 
of  marriage  among  the  Indians,  still  thinking  I  shoidd  return 
before  I  became  oldj  to  marry  to  the  whites.     At  all  events,  I 


i    ', 


■,r: 


>Vi.' 


^\^ 


\ 


^■H'^^J 


I 


lANNKK  S     NAKKAliV  K, 


101 


ikpnncss — 
amoni,'  tlie 
campiucnt, 

yoiiiig  wo- 
)-kwa,  (the 


ay  of  our 

I  disliked 
ss,  I  dis- 
e  trading- 

II  our  pol- 
iirtful  and 

Ml  flu once 
I  I  had  se- 
rc-tote,  to 
rcrived  by 
seiitly  she 
II,  you  sec 
you  moc- 
all  that  is 
iiiuji;  your 
loiihl  have 
property, 
good  man, 
daughter. 
10  will  be 
i-ved  (Voni 
p  she  said, 
on,   that  I 
uirht  little 
Hild  return 
events,  I 


assured  her  I  conld  n^ti  now  marry  the  woman  she  proposed  ti> 
me.  Slie  still  insisted  that  I  must  take  her,  stalin<r  that  thr 
whole  afliiir  had  been  settled  between  Wa-ge-tolc  and  herselt', 
and  that  the  younir  woman  had  said  she  was  not  disinrlined  to 
the  match,  and  she  j)retended  she  could  do  no  otherwise  than 
bring  her  to  the  lodge.  I  told  her  if  she  did  so  I  should  not 
treat  or  consider  lu'r  as  my  wife.  The  atiliir  was  in  this  situa- 
tion the  morning  l)ut  one  belbre  we  were  to  separate  from  \Va- 
ge-ti)tc  and  all  his  band,  iitid,  without  coming  to  any  better  tni- 
derstandinu  with  the  old  woman,  I  took  my  gun  early  in  the 
morning,  and  went  to  himt  elk.  In  the  course  of  the  day  I  killed 
a  fat  buck,  and  returning  late  in  the  eveninu,  I  hiuig  u|)  the 
meat  I  had  brought  before  the  lo<lge,  and  carefully  reconnoitered 
the  inside  before  I  entered,  intending,  if  the  y(nnig  woman  was 
there,  to  go  to  some  other  lodge  and  sleep ;  but  I  could  see  no- 
thing of  her. 

Next  morning  Wa-ge-totc  came  to  my  lodge  to  see  me ;  he 
expressed  all  the  interest  in  me  which  he  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  doing,  and  gave  mc  much  friendly  advice,  and  many  good 
wishes.  After  this  Net-no-kwa  returned  again,  urging  me  to 
marry  the  daughter,  but  I  did  not  consent.  These  attempts 
were  afterwards,  from  time  to  time,  renewed,  imtil  the  youns>- 
woman  found  a  husband  in  some  other  man. 

After  Wa-ge-tote  and  his  baixl  had  left  us,  we  went  to  the 
hunting  ground  I  had  chosen,  v»  here  we  spent  great  part  of  the 
summer  by  ourselves,  having  always  plenty  to  eat,  as  1  killed 
great  numbers  of  elks,  beavers,  and  other  animals.  Late  in  the 
fall  we  went  to  the  trading-house  at  Me-nau-ko-nos-keeg,  where 
we  met  with  Waw-/,he-kwaw-n\aish-koon,  who  had  left  us  the 
year  before,  an<l  with  hiin  we  remained. 

As  the  trader  was  cominji  to  his  wintering  ground,  the  Indians, 
having  assembled  in  consiilerable  numbers,  met  him  at  the  lake, 
at  the  distance  of  a  ivw  miles  from  his  house,  lie  had  brouoht 
a  larsre  quantity  of  rum,  and,  as  was  usual,  he  encamped  f»ir  se- 
veral days,  that  the  Indians  might  buy  atid  drink  what  they  coidd 
before  he  went  to  his  house,  as  they  would  give  him  less  trouble 
at  his  camp.  I  had  the  ftresence  of  mind  to  purchase  some  of 
the  most  needful  articles  for  the  winter,  such  as  blankets  and 
ammunition,  as  soon  as  we  met  hun.     After  we  had  completed 


-J 


,r 


m 


wi 


ianner's  narrative. 


,}^.\ 


'i  fi':,vr 


our  trade,  tlio  old  woman  look  ton  line  beaver  skins,  and  pre- 
sented tliem  to  the  trader.  In  return  for  thin  aceuslonied  j)reseiil. 
•she  was  in  tlic  habit  oC  receiving  every  year  a  chief's  dress  and 
ornaments,  and  a  ten  {jallon  kejr  of  spirits;  hut  when  the  trader 
sent  for  her  to  dehver  his  present,  she  was  too  dnmk  to  stand. 
In  this  emeri^eney,  it  was  necessary  for  me  to  jjo  and  receive  the 
artich;s.  I  had  been  drinkinif  sometliiiifr,  and  was  not  entirely 
sober.  I  put  on  the  chief's  coat  and  ornaments,  and  takinjr  the 
kejj;  on  niv  shoulder,  carried  it  home  to  our  lodyte,  placed  it  on 
one  end,  and  knocked  out  the  head  with  an  axe.  "  I  am  not," 
said  I,  "  one  of  those  chiefs  who  draw  litpior  out  of  a  .small  hole 
in  a  cask,  let  all  those  who  are  thirsty  come  and  drink ;"  but  I 
took  the  precaution  to  hide  away  a  small  ketr  full,  and  some  in  a 
kettle,  probably  in  all  three  oallons  ;  the  old  woman  then  came  in 
with  three  kettles,  and  in  about  live  minutes  the  keg  war;  emptied. 
This  wa^  the  second  time  tlial  I  had  joined  the  Indians  in  drink- 
ing, and  now  I  was  guilty  of  much  greater  excess  than  before. 
f  visited  my  hidden  keg  frecpiently,  and  remained  intoxicated 
two  days.  I  took  what  I  had  in  the  kettle,  and  went  into  the 
lodge  to  drink  with  \Vaw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon,  whom  I  called 
my  brother,  he  being  the  son  of  Net-no-kwa's  sister.  He  was 
not  yet  drunk  ;  but  his  wife,  whose  dress  was  profusely  ornn- 
menled  with  silver,  had  been  for  some  lime  drinking,  and  wa> 
now  lying  by  the  lire  in  a  state  of  absolute  insensil)ility.  Waw- 
zhe-kwaw-nudsh-koon  and  myself  took  oiir  little  kettle  and  sat 
down  to  drink,  and  presently  an  OJibbewaj',  of  our  ac<piaintance, 
staggered  in  and  fell  down  by  the  (ire  near  the  woman.  It  wa^ 
late  at  night,  but  the  noise  of  drunkenness  was  heard  in  everv 
part  of  the  camp,  ami  I  and  my  conipanion  started  out  to  !^-o  and 
drink  wherever  we  could  lind  any  to  give  us  liffuor.  As,  how- 
ever, we  were  not  excessively  drunk,  we  were  careful  to  hide 
iiway  the  kettle  which  contained  our  whiskey,  in  the  back  pari 
of  the  lodge,  covering  it,  as  we  thought,  eilectually  from  the 
view  of  any  that  might  come  in.  After  an  excursion  of  some 
hours,  we  returned.  The  woman  was  still  lying  by  the  fin!,  in- 
sensible as  before,  but  with  !ier  dress  stripped  of  its  profusion  of 
silver  ornaments ;  and  when  we  went  for  our  kettle  of  rum,  it 
was  not  to  be  found.  The;  Ojibbeway,  who  had  been  lying  by 
the  fire,  had  gone  out,  and  some  circumstances  induced  us  ii> 


TANNKU'S    NAItUVTlVl,, 


103 


>usr)fct  him  of  the  iIr-I'i,  and  I  .soon  imdcrslood  that  ho  liud  saivl 
I  had  given  hiin  sonu'lliiiig  to  (h'ink.  i  \v«miI  next  inoi  ninjr  to 
Jiis  lodfff,  iind  asked  him  lor  my  Htth;  kettle,  which  he  ihreeted 
his  squaw  tohring  to  me.  Having  thus  lixed  the  thel't  upon  him, 
Waw-zhe-k\v.i\\-n»iiish-ko(in  went  and  recovered  tlie  ornanuiUs 
of  his  wile's  dress.  This  Ojil)heway  was  a  nutn  of  considerahle 
pretensions,  wisliing  to  he  reckoned  a  chief;  hut  this  unforlunato 
attempt  at  theft  injured  his  standing  in  the  estimation  of  the  peo- 
ple. The  affair  was  long  remembered,  and  he  was  ever  after 
mentioneil  with  contem[)t. 

About  this  time,  old  Net-no-kwa  began  to  wake  from^ier  long 
continued  drunkenness.  She  called  me  to  her,  ami  asked  mo 
whether  I  had  received  the  chief's  dress,  and  the  keg  of  rum. 
She  was  unwilling  to  believe  that  I  had  suifered  all  the  contents 
of  the  keg  to  be  expended  without  reserving  stone  for  her  ;  hut 
when  she  came  U)  be  assurc'd  not  only  that  this  was  the  case,  hut 
that  I  had  been  drunk  for  two  days,  she  reproached  tne  severely, 
censuring  mc  not  only  for  ingratitude  to  her,  but  for  being  such 
a  beast  as  to  be  drunk.  The  liulians  hearing  her,  told  her  she 
had  no  right  to  complain  of  n\e  for  doing  as  she  luM'self  had 
taught  me,  and  by  way  of  pacifying  her,  they  soon  contribmed 
rum  enough  to  make  her  once  nu>re  completely  drunk. 

As  soon  as  their  peltries  were  all  disposed  of,  so  that  tluy 
were  compelled  to  discontinue  drinking,  the  Indians  began  to 
disperse  to  their  liunting  grounds.  We  went  with  the  trader  to 
his  house,  where  we  left  our  canoes,  and  thence  to  the  woods 
with  Waw-zhe-kwaw-utaish-koon  to  hunt.  We  now  constituted 
but  one  family,  but  his  part  of  it  was  large,  he  having  many 
young  children.  Cold  weather  had  scarce  commenced,  and  the 
snow  was  no  more  than  a  foot  deep,  when  wt*  began  to  be  pinch- 
ed with  hunger.  We  found  a  herd  of  elks,  and  chasing  them 
one  day,  overtook  and  killed  four  of  them.  When  the  Indians 
hunt  elk  in  this  manner,  after  starting  the  herd  they  follow  thetri 
at  such  a  gait  as  they  think  they  can  keep  for  many  hours. 
The  elks  being  frightened,  outstrip  them  at  first  hy  many  miles; 
but  the  Indians,  f(dlowing  at  a  steady  pace  along  the  path,  at 
length  come  insight  of  them;  they  then  make  another  efVorf. 
and  are  no  more  seen  for  an  hour  or  two  ;  but  the  intervals  at 
which  the  Indians  have  them  in  siaht,  grow  more  and  morn  frr - 


'},  '1 


.—i«»«J^I,^^.. ->..•.'  »-. T-r— *,. 


.■-      ) 


f-—  .*i  ill  jpatTffm 


*'    / 


f- 


ikf 


-1 


* 


i 


104 


Banner's  naruative. 


quent,  and  longer  and  longer,  until  tlicy  cease  to  lose  sight  ot" 
tlicin  at  nil.  The  elks  are  now  so  nuirh  fatigued  that  they  can 
only  move  in  a  slow  trol,  at  last  they  ran  but  walk,  by  which 
time  the  strength  of  tiie  Indians  is  nearly  exhausted,  but  they  are 
conunonly  able  lo  come  uj)  and  lire  into  the  rear  of  the  herd  : 
but  the  discharge  of  a  gun  quickens  the  motions  of  the  elks,  and 
it  is  a  very  active  and  detf'rmiued  man  that  can  in  this  way  come 
near  enough  to  do  execution  more  than  once  or  twice,  unless 
when  the  snow  is  pretty  deep.  The  elk,  in  running,  does  not 
lift  his  feel  well  from  (he  ground,  so  that,  in  deep  snow,  he  is 
easily  taken.  There  are  anu)ng  the  In<lians  some,  but  mtt  many, 
men  who  can  run  down  an  elk  on  the  snu)oth  prairie,  when  there 
is  neither  sm)w  or  ice.  The  moose  and  the  bulliiloe  surpass  the 
elk  in  ileetness,  and  can  rarely  be  taken  by  fair  running,  by  a 
)nan  on  foot. 

The  flesh  of  the  four  elks  was  dried,  but  by  no  means  equally 
divided  between  us,  nor  in  proportion  to  the  size  and  wants  of 
our  respective  families  ;  but  1  made  no  complaint,  as  I  knew  I 
was  a  poor  hunter,  and  had  aided  but  little  in  taking  them.  Af- 
terwards, I  directed  my  aitentitm  more  to  the  hunting  of  beaver. 
I  knew  of  more  than  twenty  gangs  of  beaver  in  the  country 
al)out  my  can\p,  and  I  now  went  and  began  to  break  up  the 
lodges,  but  I  was  much  surprised  to  lind  nearly  all  of  them 
empty.  At  last  I  fouiul  that  some  kind  of  distemper  was  pre- 
vaihng  among  these  ai\inuils,  which  destroyed  them  in  vast  num- 
bers. 1  found  them  dead  and  dying  in  the  Mater,  on  the  ice, 
and  on  the  land;  sometimes  1  found  one  that,  having  cut  a  tree 
lialf  down,  had  died  at  its  roots;  sometimes  one  who  had  drawn 
a  stick  of  limber  hah'  way  lo  his  lodue,  was  lying  dead  by  his 
burthen.  Many  of  them,  which  I  tq)ened,  were  red  and  bloody 
id)out  ihe  heart.  Those  in  large  rivers  and  running  water  suf- 
fered less;  iihni'st  all  of  those  that  lived  in  jxinds  and  stagnanl 
water,  died.  Since;  that  year  the  beaver  have  never  been  so 
pleiilifiil  in  llie  country  of  Red  Kiver  and  Hudson's  Hay,  as  lhe\ 
used  formerly  lo  be.  Those  aninuils  which  died  of  this  sickness 
we  were  afraid  to  eat,  bul  their  skins  were  good. 

It  often  happeiu'd  while  we  lived  with  Waw-zhe-kwaw-maisli- 
koon,  that  we  wpre  suH'ering  from  hunger.  Om-e,  after  a  day 
anrl  night  in  which  we  bail  iini    tasted   a  mouthful.  I    went  with 


lAWER  S   NARRATlVi: 


1U5 


ghl  ot" 
ley  cau 
wliich 
lu'V  arf 
i  herJ  : 
Iks,  and 
ly  come 
,  unless 
i(Hs  not 
V,  he  is 
)t  many, 
en  there 
■j)iiss  the 
ng,  hy  a 

?  equally 
,vants  of 
I  knew  I 
tnn.     Al- 
ii' beaver, 
e  country 
ik   up  the 
ot  iheni 
was  pre- 
vast  num- 
II  the  ice, 
nl  a  tree 
mil  drawn 
ail  by  his 
1(1  bhiody 
viittr  snl- 
tHiiuanl 
r  been  so 
y,  as  llu'N 
Is  sickness 

law-maish- 
Itler  a  day 
Lvent  with 


him  to  hum,  and  we  found  a  lierd  of  elks;  we  killed  two  and 
wounded  a  third,  which  we  pm-sued  until  night,  when  we  over- 
look it.  We  cut  up  the  meat  and  <overed  it  in  the  snow  ;  but  he 
took  not  a  moutliliil  for  our  immediate  use,  thoiiirh  we  were  so 
far  fiiini  home,  and  it  was  now  so  late  thai  we  did  not  think  of 
moving  towards  home  until  the  following  day.  I  knew  that  he 
liail  fasted  as  long  as  I  had.  and  tlnnigh  my  suH'ering  from  hun- 
ger was  extreme,  I  was  aslianu'd  to  ask  him  for  any  thing  to 
eai,  thinking  I  ccnild  endure  it  as  long  as  he  could.  In  the 
morning  he  gave  me  a  litllc  meat,  but  without  stopping  to  cook 
any  thing,  we  started  for  honu'.  I»  was  afternoon  when  we  ar- 
riveil,  and  Met-no-kwa  seeing  we  had  brought  meat,  said,  "  well, 
iny  son,  I  suppose  yon  have  eaten  very  heartily  last  tiight,  after 
yinir  long  fast."  I  told  her  [  had  as  yet  eaten  nothing.  IShe  im- 
niedialely  cookeil  part  of  what  he  had  given  me,  all  of  which 
lasted  us  no  more  tliaTi  two  days.  I  still  knew  of  two  gangs  of 
beaver,  that  had  est'aped  ihe  prevailing  sickness,  and  I  took  my 
traps  and  went  in  pursuit  of  ihem.  In  a  day  or  two  I  had  taken 
eight,  two  of  wliich  i  gave  to  Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon. 

Some  time  in  the  course  of  this  winter,  there  came  to  our 
loilge  one  of  the  sons  of  the  celebrated  Ojibbi-way  chief,  called 
Wesh-ko-bng,  (tlie  sweet,)  wh(»  li\((lat  Leech  Lake.  This  man 
was  one  of  those  who  make  themselves  women,  ami  are  called 
women  by  the  Indians.  There  are  several  of  this  sort  among 
nuist,  if  not  ail  ibe  Indian  tribes;  they  are  connnonly  called 
A-go-kwa,  a  word  which  is  e.\pr»'ssive  of  their  condition.  This 
creature,  called  O/aw-weii-dilt.  (the  yi'llow  head,)  was  now  near 
fifty  years  old,  and  had  li^ed  with  man\  hiisiiands.  I  do  nor 
know  whether  she  had  seen  me,  or  only  heard  of  me,  but  she 
soon  let  me  know  she  had  c(»me  a  long  distance  to  see  me,  and 
witli  th«'  hope  of  li\ing  with  me.  She  often  «)flered  herself  to 
me,  but  not  being  disconrasjed  with  one  refusal,  she  r(>pe«led  her 
disgusting  ad' am'cs  until  i  was  almost  driven  from  the  lodge. 
Old  Nel-no-kwa  was  perfectly  well  ncquainted  with  her  charac- 
ter, and  only  laughed  at  the  embarrassment  ami  shnme  which  t 
evinced  whenever  she  addressed  nu'.  She  seemed  rather  to 
countenance  and  enc  iirage  the  ^ellow  Head  in  ninaining  at 
our  I'kI  e.  The  lalli  ■  was  very  expert  in  the  various  em|d<i\- 
menis  of  the  women,  to  which  all  her  lime  was  given.      V»  length. 

14 


P^^'W 


I  If 


\ ' '  i^ 


1     !t 


106 


TAN'NRR  S    NARRATIVf.. 


r    )5 


despairiiifi  of  success  in  her  iiddrosHOs  lo  iiio,  or  i)oiii(r  too  mnclt 
pinched  by  huiii^cr,  which  wiis  coinnionly  Icll  in  onr  lodge,  shi: 
disappeared,  and  was  al)senl  three  or  four  days.  I  lu'tran  to 
liope  I  slioidd  l)(^  no  more  troul)ied  with  tier,  when  she  came  back 
k)a(Uul  witli  dry  meat.  She  staled  tliat  she  had  Coinid  the  band  of 
Wa-jre-to-tah-jrun,  and  that  tliat  cinef  had  sent  by  her  an  iiwitalion 
for  IIS  to  join  liini.  lie  had  heard  of  tlie  nigirardly  con(hict  of 
Waw-zhe-kwaw-maish-koon  towards  us,  and  had  sent  the  A-go- 
kwa  to  sa\  to  me,  "  my  nephew,  I  (h»  not  wish  you  to  stay  there 
to  h)ok  at  the  meat  that  another  kills,  but  is  too  mean  to  give  you. 
Come  to  me,  and  neither  you  n(u'  my  sister  shall  want  any  thing 
it  is  in  my  power  to  give  you.'"  I  was  glad  enough  of  this  invi- 
tation, and  started  immediately.  At  the  first  encampment,  as  1 
was  doing  something  by  the  fire,  I  heard  tiie  A-go-kwa  at  no  great, 
distance  in  the  woods,  whistling  to  call  me.  Ai)proaching  the 
place,  I  found  she  had  her  eyes  on  game  of  some  kind,  and  pre- 
sently I  discovere<l  a  m<iose.  I  shot  him  twice  in  succession,  and 
twice  he  fell  at  the  report  of  the  gun  ;  but  it  is  |)robable  I  shot  too 
high,  for  at  last  he  escaped.  The  old  woman  reproved  me  se- 
lercly  for  this,  telling  me  she  feared  I  should  never  be  a  good 
hunter.  But  before  night  the  next  day,  we  arrived  at  Wa-ge-to- 
te's  lodge,  wliere  we  ate  as  nnich  as  we  wished.  Here,  also,  I 
found  myself  relieved  from  the  persecutions  of  (he  A-go-kwa, 
uliich  had  bec(»me  intolerable.  Wa-ge-tote,  who  had  two  wives, 
marrii'd  her.  This  inlroducti(»n  of  a  new  inmate  into  the  family 
of  Wa-ge-tote,  occasioned  some  laughter,  and  produced  some 
ludicr(Uis  incidents,  but  was  attended  with  less  uneasim>ss  and 
tpiarreling  than  would  have  In-en  the  bringing  in  of  a  new  wife  of 
the  female  sex. 

This  baiul  consisted  of  a  large  nundn'r  of  Indians,  and  the 
country  about  tliem  was  hunted  poor;  so  that  few  even  of  the 
best  hunters  were  aide  to  kill  iraine  often;  but  it  so  happen«'d, 
that  myself  ai\d  another  man,  who,  like  nu',  was  re|)uted  a  j)oor 
Inmter,  killed  more  frei|uently  than  others.  The  Indians  now  col- 
lected for  the  solemn  ceremony  of  the  meta  or  mediance  dance, 
in  which  !Vet-no-kwa  always  bore  a  very  C(ms|)icuous  j>nrt.  I  be- 
gun to  be  dissatislied  at  remaining  with  large  bands  of  Imlians, 
as  it  was  usual  for  them,  after  having  remained  a  sht)rt  lime  iu 
•A  place,  to  snfj'er  from  hunger.     I  therefore  made  a  road  for  my 


TANNKK  .>    NAKIlATiV  1,. 


im 


inncli 
;c,  sh«-. 
jran  to 
\c  back 
iinil  of 
iritiitio" 
ilurt  of 
p  A-go- 
lv  tliero 
ivi-  you. 
iiy  tluiis 
his  invi- 
>nl,  as  1 
no  great, 
liing  the 
ami  prc- 
;sion,  and 
I  shot  ton 
!d  mc  so- 
bp  a  gooil 
Wa-s?e-to- 
IT,  alrso,  I 
V..jTo-kwa, 
wo  wives, 
the  family 
iced  somr 
siness  and 
ew  wife  of 

s,  and  tin' 
^•(•n  of  the 
ia|)i)<'ned, 
led  a  poor 
IS  now  <•<»!- 
iH-e  dance, 
)arl.  I  ''e- 
,f  Indians, 
)rl  time  iit 
»ad  for  inv 


1 


m 


self,  and  set  my  traps  in  a  fianir  of  Ix  avers.  \Vli(ii  I  sioiiified  to 
Wa-ge-tote  my  intention  of  loavini)  liiin,  he  snid  he  was  much 
afraid  I  sliould  perish  of  liniigor,  if  I  went  far  away  liy  mvsclf.  I 
refused,  however,  to  listen  to  his  advice  or  persuasion  to  remain 
witli  him,  and  he  then  determined  to  accompany  me  to  my  traps, 
to  see  wliat  j)lace  I  liad  selected,  and  judfre  whether  I  shoidd  he 
able  to  support  my  family.  When  we  arrived,  he  fo\nul  I  had 
caiijilit  one  larjfe  heaver,  lie  advised  and  encourajred  mc,  and 
after  tellins)'  me  wliere  I  should  iind  his  camj),  in  case  of  being 
pressed  by  poverty,  he  returned. 

My  family  had  now  been  increased  by  the  addition  of  a  poor 
old  Ojibbevvay  woman  and  two  children,  whet  bcino  destitute  of 
any  men,  had  been  taken  up  by  Net-no-kwa.  Notwith>tan(lin;L^- 
iliirf,  I  thouirht  it  was  still  best  for  us  to  li\e  by  ouisehes.  1 
hunted  with  considerable  ("uceess,  and  remained  by  my.self  until 
the  end  of  the  season  for  makinj^  sugar,  when  Net-no-kwa  deter- 
mined to  return  to  Menaukonoskeejf,  while  I  should  jro  to  the 
tradiuir  house  at  Red  River,  to  purchase  some  necessary  articlcb. 
C  made  a  pack  of  beaver,  ami  started  by  myself,  in  a  small  bullU- 
loe  skin  canoe,  only  large  enough  to  carry  me  and  my  pack,  aiul 
descended  the  Litth'  Saskawjewun. 

There  is,  on  the  I)anl\  of  that  river,  a  place  which  looks  hke 
one  the  rndians  vv(mld  always  ciioose  to  encam|)  at.  In  a  bend 
of  the  river  is  a  beautiful  laiuling  place,  behind  it  a  little  plain,  a 
thick  wood,  and  a  small  hill  rising  abruptly  in  the  rear.  Uul  with 
that  spot  is  coniH'cted  a  story  of  fratricide,  a  crime  so  uiu'om- 
nion,  that  the  s|iot  where  it  happened  is  held  in  detestatiim,  and 
regarded  with  terror.  Mo  liulian  will  land  his  canoe,  much  les.s 
eiH-anip,  at  ''■  the  place  of  the  tmidcad  iikii.''*  They  relate,  that 
many  years  ag«>,  the  Indians  were  encampeil  here,  when  a  <|uar- 
rel  arose  between  two  brotb-rs,  having  she-she-gwi  lor  totems, 
One  drew  his  knife  and  slew  the  other  ;  but  those  of  the  band 
who  were  present,  looked  upon  the  crime  as  so  horrid,  that  with- 
out hesitation  or  delay,  they  killed  tlu!  murderer,  ami  bin-i»'d  them 
togetlier. 

As  I  approached  this  spot,  I  thought  much  of  the  story  of  the 
two  brothers,  who  bore  tin;  same  totem  with  myself,  and  were,  as 

•  .Irbiu({-iier/,li-i>-shiii-nniit — Two  (Jrnd  Ur  tlicrq. 


i 


ISA* 


10» 


lANNCU  S    \AUR.\TIV1  . 


^'l 


thor.     I  lia<1  heard  it  said, 


one 


I  supposed,  related  to  my  Indian  nio 

that  if  any  man  encamped  near  llieir  <;raves,  as  some  had  d 
soon  after  ihey  were  l)uried,  they  would  be  seen  to  eome  ont  of 
the  jrronnd,  and  either  react  tlie  (piarrel  and  the  murder,  or  in 
some  other  manner  so  annoy  and  disturb  their  visiters,  that  they 
could  not  sleep,  furiosity  was  in  part  my  motive,  and  I  wished 
to  be  able  to  tell  the  Fn-Uaiis,  tliat  /  had  not  only  stopped,  but 
slept  ([uietly  ata  place  wliicii  lliey  shunned  with  so  much  fear  and 
caution.  The  sun  was  jroin^'  down  as  I  arrived;  and  I  pushed 
my  little  canoe  in  to  the  shore,  kindled  a  fire,  and  after  eatins(  my 
supper,  lay  down  and  slept.  Very  soon,  I  saw  the  two  dead  men 
come  and  sit  down  by  my  fire,  opposite  lue.  Their  eyes  were 
intently  lixcd  upon  me,  but  they  neither  smiled,  nor  said  any 
thing.  I  got  up  and  sat  (tpposite  iheni  I)y  the  tire,  and  in  this  situ- 
ation I  awoke.  The  night  was  dark  and  gusty,  but  I  saw  no 
men,  or  heard  any  other  sounds,  than  (hat  of  the  wind  in  the 
trees.  It  i^"  likely  I  fell  asleep  again,  for  I  soon  saw  the  same 
two  men  standing  below  the  bank  of  the  river,  their  heads  just 
rising  to  the  level  of  the  ground  I  had  made  my  fire  on,  and  look- 
ing at  me  as  before.  Alter  a  few  minutes,  they  rose  one  after  the 
other,  and  sat  down  o|)|iosite  me;  but  now  they  were  laughing, 
and  pushing  at  me  with  slicks,  and  using  various  methods  of  an- 
noyance. 1  endeav(tnred  to  speak  to  them,  but  my  voice  failed 
me  :  I  tried  to  fly,  but  mv  feet  refuseil  to  do  their  office.  Through- 
out the  whole  night  I  was  in  a  state  of  agitation  and  alarm. 
Among  other  things  which  they  said  to  me,  one  of  them  told  nic 
io  look  at  the  top  of  the  little  hill  which  stood  near.  I  did  so, 
and  saw  a  horse  fettered,  and  standing  looking  at  me.  "  There,  my 
brother,"  said  the  jebi,  " is  a  Innse  which  I  give  you  to  i ide  on  your 
journey  to-morrow ;  ami  as  you  |)ass  here  on  your  way  home,  you 
can  call  and  leave  the  horse,  and  spend  another  niiiht  with  us." 

At  last  came  the  morniuir,  and  I  was  in  no  small  degree  pleased 
to  fmd,  that  with  the  darkness  of  the  night  these  terrifying  vi- 
sions vanished.  But  my  long  residence  among  the  Indians,  and 
the  frei]uent  instances  in  which  I  had  knowu  the  intimations  of 
dreams  verified,  occasioned  me  Io  think  seriously  of  the  horse 
ihe  jebi  had  given  me.  Accordingly  I  went  to  the  top  of  the  hill, 
where  I  discovered  tracks  and  other  signs,  and  f(dlowing  a  little 
distance,  found  »  horso,  which  I  knew  belonged  fo  the  trader  I 


II 


J... 


:i 


TANNKR  S    NAKRATIVi:. 


100 


mt  they 
[  wiisheil 
jx'il,  hut 
r«'iir  and 
I  piislied 
aliiii?  iny 
lead  men 
ITS  wcro 
said  any 
lliis  situ- 
I  saw  no 
nd  in  the 
the  samo 
cads  just 
and  look- 
?  after  the 
laughing, 
(ids  nl'an- 
lice  failed 
Thronsrli- 
id   alarm, 
n  toKl  lac 
I  did  so. 
There,  my 
\v  on  your 
lonie,  you 
vith  us." 
ee  ph'ased 
ri tying  vi- 
ians,  and 
\ations  of 
the  liorsc 
if  lliehill, 
uu  a  little 
ic  trader  I 


was  going  to  see.  As  several  miles  travel  niiirht  he  saved  by 
crossing  from  this  point  on  the  Little  Saskawjewun  to  the  Assin- 
nehoin,  I  h'fl  the  eatioe,  am!  having  raiiahl  the  horse,  and  put  my 
loud  upon  idm,  led  him  towards  the  trading  house,  where  I  ar- 
rived next  day.  In  all  snhse(|uent  jonrr  ns  through  this  eountry, 
I  carefully  siunnied  '*  tlie  plaee  of  tlie  twodearl  ;"  and  theaceount 
I  gave  ot  what  I  had  seen  and  stiil'ered  there,  coutirnied  the  su- 
perslilioiis  terrors  of  the  Indians. 

After  I  reinrned  IV.mh  ti':iilin:,r  at  the  Ued  River,  I  went  to  live 
at  Naowawifiinwu  !jn.  the  hi!l  of  the  liullidoe  cha'^e,  near  the  Sas- 
ka«  icwiin.  'I'lus  is  a  hiiih  rocky  hill,  wliei-c  mities  may  proha- 
bly  he  t'ouiul,  as  tliei'e  are  in  the  roeks  many  sinirnlar  looking 
masses.  Here  we  found  sui;iir  trei's  in  plenty,  and  a  tjood  jdaee- 
for  piissinu' the  spi'inir.  (Jame  was  so  almndant,  and  t)  situation 
so  desirahle,  that  I  eonchided  to  reiniin,  instead  of  ifoi  tT  with  all 
the  Indians  to  Clear  Water  Lake,  where  they  assemhled  to  have 
tlieir  usual  drunken  frolick.  I  hud  s(  nt  for  VV*a-me-gon-a-hiew, 
;ind  he  miw  j  'iM(  d  us  here,  with  one  horse,  makinsj  our  whole 
luimher  three.  All  these,  all  otir  doirs,  anil  ourstdves,  were  loaded 
vith  ihe  meat  of  one  moose,  which  I  killed  at  this  time,  the  lar- 
gest ind  the  fattest  one  I  had  ev»'r  seen. 

Wi-me-aon-a-hiew,  after  reMiainiiisi  with  me  four  days,  went 
to  look  tor  Wa-ge-tote,  hut  without  lellina  me  any  thing  of  his 
business.  In  a  few  days  he  returned,  and  l(dd  nu'  tliat  he  had 
heeii  to  see  Wa-ge-tote  on  aecoinit  of  his  daniihter,  that  had  been 
so  often  ollered  to  me,  and  wished  tc  know  if  I  had  any  intenlioii 
to  marry  her.  I  told  him  I  liad  not.  anil  that  I  was  very  willinii 
to  alllinl  him  any  aid  in  my  power  in  furtherance  of  his  design. 
II(>  wished  me  to  return  with  him,  probably  that  I  mii;lit  remove 
any  inipressiim  the  old  people  miuht  have,  thi.i  I  would  marry 
the  iiirl,  ami  accompany  him  in  brini^inn;  her  home,  f  assented, 
wilhoul  reflection,  to  thi~^  |)i'o|iosal.  ami  as  we  were  about  making 
our  preparations  to  starl.  I  perceived  tViun  \et-no-kwa's  coim- 
fenance,  though  she  said  nothinjx,  that  the  course  we  were  taking 
(lispleii^ed  her.  I  then  rec(dleeted,  that  it  was  not  the  hitsiness 
of  young  men  to  brins:  home  their  wives,  an  I  I  told  Wa-me-gon- 
a-l)iew  that  we  should  he  ridiculed  liy  all  the  people,  if  we  per- 
sisted in  our  desiLni.  "  Here,"  said  I,  "is  cnu'  nuither,  whose  bu- 
siness it  is  to  Jiiid  wives  for  us  when  we  want  ihciu,  aud  she  will 


♦  J 


\\ 


m:: 


I 


fl^§ 


.  \ 


mii-^  .. 


'I 


V      V  V 


110 


lANNER  »    NARRA'IIVi;, 


bring  them,  and  show  thorn  our  places  in  the  lodge,  wlienever  it 
is  right  she  should  do  so."  The  old  woman  was  manifestly 
pleased  with  what  I  said,  and  expressed  her  willingness  to  go  im- 
mediately and  bring  home  the  daugliter  of  VVa-ge-tote.  She  went 
accoriiingly  ;  ami  it  so  haj)i)ened,  thai  when  she  returned  bring- 
ing the  girl,  Wa-nie-gon-a-hiew  and  myself  were  silting  inside 
the  lodge.  It  appeared  that  neitlier  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  nor  the 
oM  woman,  had  been  at  tiie  j)aii)s  to  give  her  any  very  particular 
infum  itioii,  for  when  she  came  in,  she  was  evidently  at  a  loss  to 
know  which  of  the  young  men  before  her  had  chosen  her  for  ii 
wife.  IN'et-no-kwa  perceiving  her  end)arraissment,  told  her  to  sit. 
down  near  Wa-nie-gon-a~l)iew,  for  him  it  was  whom  she  was  to 
consider  her  husband.  After  a  few  days,  he  took  her  home  to  his 
other  wife,  witli  whom  she  livid  in  harmony. 

In  the  ensuing  fall,  when  1  was  something  more  than  twentj- 
one  years  of  agi^  I  moved,  with  W;i-iut;-gon-a-biew,  and  man\ 
other  families  of  Indians,  to  the  Wild  Rice.  While  we  were  en- 
gaged in  collecting  and  preparing  the  grain,  many  among  us  were 
seized  with  a  violent  sickness.  It  commenced  with  cough  and 
hoarseness,  and  sometimes  bleeding  fntm  the  mouth  or  nose.  In 
a  short  time  many  died,  and  none  were  able  to  hnnt.  Althougli 
I  did  not  escape  entirely,  my  atla.'k  appeareil  at  first  less  violent 
than  that  of  most  others.  There  had  been  for  several  days, 
no  nuat  in  the  encampment ;  some  of  the  children  had  not 
been  sick,  and  some  of  those  who  had  been  sick,  now  began 
to  recover,  and  needed  some  food.  There  was  but  one  man  be- 
side myself,  as  capable  of  exertion  as  I  was;  and  he,  like  myself, 
was  recovering.  We  were  wholly  nnable  to  walk,  and  could 
scarce  mount  our  horses  when  tlicy  were  brought  to  us  by  the 
children.  !lad  we  b(  en  able  lo  walk,  we  coughed  so  loudly  and 
so  incessantly,  that  we  could  iu>ver  havt'  approached  near  enougli 
to  any  jrame  lo  kill  it  by  still  hunting.  In  this  entergency,  we 
rode  into  the  plains,  and  were  fortunate  enough  to  overtake  and 
kill  a  bear.  Of  tlir  tlesh  of  this  animal,  we  could  not  eat  a  nmutli- 
ful,  but  we  took  it  home,  and  dislrii)Uted  to  everv  lodge  an  equal 
j)ortion.  Still  I  c(mtinued  to  get  better,  and  was  among  the  first 
to  regain  my  health,  as  I  sujtposed.  In  a  few  days  I  went  out  to 
hunt  elk  ;  and  in  killinu  two  of  them  in  the  s|)acc  of  two  or  three 
Jjours.I  becante  somewhat  excited  and  fatigued.  I  cut  up  the  meat. 


3.J 


TANNER  S    NAKRATIVI. 


Ill 


hcnevev  iL 
manifestly 
s  tu  go  iin- 
She  worn 
neil  bring- 
ing inside 
\v,  nor  the 
'  particular 
at  a  loss  to 
n  her  for  u 
(1  iier  to  sit 
slie  was  to 
UMne  to  his 

lan  twentj- 
,  and  man) 
ve  were  en- 
ung  us  were 
rough  and 
or  nose.   In 
Althougli 
less  violent 
veral  days, 
n  had   not 
now  Itegan 
le  man  be- 
ike  myself, 
and   could 
us  by  the 
loudly  and 
•ar  eno\igli 
geucy,  we 
eriake  and 
lit  a  moutli- 
Xt'  an  e(|ual 
iig  the  first 
went  out  to 
wo  or  three 
ip  the  meat. 


and  as  is  usual,  took  home  a  load  on  my  bacli,  when  f  returned, 
late  heartily  of  some  which  they  rooked  for  me,  liicii  lay  down 
and  slept;  but  before  the  middle  of  the  night.  I  was  waked  by  a 
dreadful  pain  in  my  ears.  It  appeared  to  me  that  sonieiliing  was 
eating  into  my  ears,  and  I  called  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  to  look,  but 
he  could  see  nothing.  The  pain  became  more  and  inure  excru- 
ciating for  two  days  ;  at  the  end  of  which  tinn;  1  became  insensi- 
ble. When  my  consciousness  returned,  which  was,  as  1  icanu-d 
afterwards,  at  the  end  of  two  days,  1  fimiul  myselt'  sitting  out- 
side the  lodge.  I  saw  the  Indians  on  all  sides  (\(  me,  drinking, 
some  trader  having  come  among  them.  Some  were  (juar-elling, 
particularly  a  groupe  amongst  which  I  distinguished  Wa-ine-gon- 
a-biew,  and  saw  him  slab  a  horse  with  his  knite.  Then  I  imme- 
diately became  insensible,  and  remained  so  probablv  lor  soino 
days,  as  I  was  unconscicms  of  every  thing  that  jmssed,  until  llie 
band  were  nearly  ready  to  move  frniri  (he  place  where  we  had 
been  living.  My  strength  was  not  entirely  gone,  and  when  I 
came  to  my  right  mind,  1  could  walk  about.  [  rcllected  much  on 
all  that  had  passed  since  1  had  been  among  the  Indians.  I  had 
in  the  main  been  contented  since  residiiiir  in  tlie  family  of  Net-no- 
kwa  ;  but  this  sickness  I  looked  upon  as  the  comineiicement  of 
misfortune,  which  was  to  follow  me  through  life.  Mv  hearino 
was  gone,  for  abscesses  had  formed  and  discharat'd  in  each  ear. 
and  I  could  now  hear  bill  very  imperfectly.  I  sat  down  in  the 
lodge,  and  could  see  the  faces  of  men,  and  their  lijis  movinir,  but 
knew  not  what  they  said.  1  took  my  gun  and  went  to  hunt ;  hut 
the  animals  discovered  me  before  I  could  see  them,  and  if  bv  ac- 
cident I  saw  a  moose  or  an  elk,  and  endeavoured  to  gel  near  him, 
I  found  that  my  cunning  and  my  success  had  deserted  me.  F  soon 
imagined  that  the  very  animals  knew  that  I  had  become  like  an 
old  and  useless  man. 

Under  the  influence  of  these  painful  feelings,  I  resolved  to  de- 
stroy myself,  as  the  only  means  of  escajiing  the  certain  miser}- 
which  I  saw  before  me.  When  they  were  ready  to  move,  Nel- 
no-kwa  had  my  horse  brought  to  the  door  of  the  lodge,  and  asked 
me  if  I  was  able  to  gel  on  and  ride  to  the  place  where  they  in- 
leniled  to  encamp.  I  lold  her  1  was,  and  reiiuesting  that  my  gun 
might  be  left  with  me,  said  I  would  follow  the  parly  at  a  liltle 
di«itanre.     I  look  the  rein  of  mv  horse's  bridle  in  mv  hand,  and 


n 


ill* 


112 


XANNEn  S    NARRATIVi;. 


sitting  flown,  watched  the  people,  as  group  after  group  passed  ine 
and  disappeared.  When  the  last  old  woman,  and  her  heavy  load 
of  pukkwi  mats,  sunk  behind  llie  little  swell  of  the  prairie  that 
bounded  my  prospect,  1  felt  much  relieved.  I  cast  loose  the  reins 
of  the  bridle,  and  suflereil  my  horse  to  feed  at  large.  I  then 
cocked  my  gun,  and  resting  the  l)utl  of  it  on  the  ground,  I  put  the 
muzzle  to  my  throat,  and  j)rocee(led  with  the  ramrod,  which  I 
had  drawn  for  the  purpose,  to  discharge  it.  I  knew  that  the  lock 
was  in  good  order;  also,  that  the  piece  had  been  well  loaded  but 
a  day  or  two  before  ;  but  I  now  found  thai  the  charge  had  been 
drawn.  My  pow<ler  horn  and  ball  pouch  always  contained  more 
or  less  ammunition  ;  biU  on  examination,  1  fouiul  tli(;m  empty. 
My  knife  also,  which  I  commonly  carried  appended  to  the  strap 
of  my  shot  pouch,  was  gone.  Finding  myself  baffled  in  the  at- 
temj)t  to  take  my  own  life,  I  seized  my  gun  with  both  hands  by  the 
muzzle,  and  threw  it  fn)m  me  with  my  utmost  strength  ;  then 
inounteil  my  horse,  who.  contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  ami  to 
what  I  had  expected  from  him,  had  I'emaiiied  near  me  alter  bt'iuL;' 
released.  I  soon  overtook  the  party,  for  being  probably  aware 
of  my  intentions,  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  an<l  Net-no-kwa  had  gone 
but  far  eiu)ugh  to  conceal  thtihselves  from  my  view,  and  had  then 
sat  down  lo  wait.  It  is  prol)able,  that  in  my  insane  ravings,  I  had 
talked  of  my  intention  to  destroy  myself,  aiul  on  this  account, 
tliey  had  been  careful  to  deprive  me  of  the  most  ordinary  and  di- 
rect means  of  eflecting  my  purpose. 

Suicide  is  not  very  unfrei|nfnt  anuing  the  Indians, and  is  effected 
in  various  ways;  shootina,  hanging,  drowning,  poisoning,  &-c.  The 
causes,  also,  which  urge  to  the  desperate  act,  are  various.  Some 
years  previous  to  the  tinu^  F  now  speak  of,  I  was  with  Net-no- 
kwa,  at  Mackinac,  when  I  knew  a  very  i)roniising  aiul  hiifhly  re- 
spected vounu  man  of  the  Ottawwaws,  who  shot  himself  in  the 
Indian  burying  ground.  He  had,  for  the  lirst  tinu^  drank  to  in- 
toxication; ami  in  the  alienation  of  mind  produced  by  the  liquor, 
had  torn  off  his  own  clothes,  and  l)ehaved  with  so  much  vi(dence, 
lluU  his  two  sisters,  to  prevent  him  fnun  injuring  himself  or 
others,  tied  his  hands  and  feel,  ami  laid  him  down  in  the  lodge. 
Next  luorning,  he  awoke  sober,  and  being  untied,  went  to  liis  sis- 
ter's lodire,  which  was  near  the  buryiuir  gnmnd,  borrowed  a  gun, 
under  pretence  of  goiui!   to  shoot  pigeons,  jind  went  into  the 


-J 


burj 

awo 

very 

the  j 

viole 

the  (J 

Tnent 

ducc 

I  I 

in  un 

it  wa< 

healtl 

but  m 

TluMlj 

ing,  a  I 

fiad  \h 

anu)na 

plaint. 

deaf,  0 

casicun 

roeks. 

Most  o 

ears,  oi 

This  di 

to  use 

On  d 
white 
some  ai 
dan  vi 
seeing 
were  to 
opportu 
these  w 
Captain 
♦he  Pat 

Late 
game  w 
winter, 
gon-a-bi 


i. 


I 


i'ANNER  S    NARHATlVi;, 


li» 


burying  ground  and  sliot  himself.  It  is  probalde,  that  when  hf 
awoke  and  found  himself  ti«'d,  he  thought  he  had  done  somelhinjr 
very  inij)roj)er  in  his  drunkenness,  and  to  relieve  himself  from 
the  pressure  of  shame  and  mortiticntion,  had  ended  his  davs  hy 
violence.  Misfortunes  and  losses  of  various  kinds,  sometimes 
the  death  of  friends,  and  possii)ly,  in  some  instances,  disappoint 
raent  in  adiiirs  of  love,  may  he  considered  the  causes  which  pro- 
duce sincide  among  the  Indians. 

I  reproached  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  for  his  conduct  towards  me, 
in  unloading  my  gun,  and  taking  away  my  ammunition,  though 
it  was  [)robably  done  by  the  old  woman.  After  I  recovered  my 
health  more  perfectly,  I  began  to  feel  ashamed  of  this  attempt, 
but  my  friends  were  so  considerate  as  never  to  mention  it  to  me. 
Though  my  health  soon  became  good,  1  did  not  recover  my  hear- 
ing, and  it  was  several  months  before  I  coidd  hunt  as  well  as  I 
Iiad  been  able  to  do  previous  to  my  sickness ;  but  I  was  not 
anuiMg  those  who  suflered  most  severely  by  this  terrible  com- 
plaint. Of  the  Indians  who  survived,  some  were  permanently 
deaf,  others  injured  in  their  intellects,  and  some,  in  the  fury  oc 
casioned  by  the  disease,  dashed  themselves  against  trees  and 
rocks,  breaking  their  arms,  or  otherwise  maiming  themselves. 
Most  of  those  who  survived,  had  copit)Us  discharges  from  the 
ears,  or  in  the  earlier  stages  had  bled  profusely  from  the  nose. 
This  disease  was  entirely  new  to  the  Indians,  and  they  attempted 
to  use  few  or  no  remedies  for  it. 

On  going  to  Mouse  River  trading-house,  I  heard  that  some 
white  j)eople  from  the  L'nited  iStates  had  been  there,  to  purchase 
some  articles  for  the  use  of  their  party,  then  living  at  the  Man- 
dan  village.  I  regretted  that  I  had  missed  the  opportunity  of 
seeing  them;  but  as  I  had  received  the  impr«'ssion  that  they 
were  to  remain  permanently  there,  I  though  I  would  take  some 
opportunity  to  visit  them.  I  have  since  been  informed,  that 
these  white  men  were  some  of  the  party  of  (iovernor  Clark  and 
Captain  Lewis,  then  on  their  way  to  the  Rocky  Mountains  and 
the  Pacilic  Ocean. 

Late  in  the  fall,  we  went  to  Ke-nu-kau-ne-she-way-bo-ant,  when; 
game  was  then  plenty,  and  where  we  determined   to  spend  tho 
winter.     Here,  for  the  first  time,  I  joined  deeply  with  Wa-inc 
2[on-a-bie,w  and   other  Indians,   in  gambling,  a  vice   scarce   If-i 

15 


'\ 


'%. 


■Jmttm 


f'  i4  i'i- 


114 


tavjJer's  narrative. 


mm 


W:.   4lA 


hurtful  to  them  than  drunkenness.  One  of  the  games  we  nsetl 
wus  that  of  the  moccasin,  which  is  playeil  l>y  any  number  of 
persons,  but  usually  in  small  parties.  Four  moccasins  are  used, 
and  in  one  of  them  some  small  object,  such  as  a  little  stick,  or  a 
small  piece  of  cloth,  is  hid  by  one  of  tiie  betting  parties.  The 
moccasins  are  laid  down  beside  each  other,  and  one  of  the  ad- 
verse party  is  then  to  touch  two  of  the  moccasins  with  his  linger, 
or  a  stick.  If  tiie  one  he  tirst  touches  has  the  hidden  thing  in 
it,  the  player  loses  eight  to  the  ojiposite  party  ;  if  it  is  lutl  in  the 
second  he  touches,  but  in  one  of  the  two  passed  over,  he  loses 
two.  If  it  is  not  in  tiie  one  he  touches  lirst,  and  is  in  ihc  last,  he 
wins  eight.  The  Crocs  play  this  game  ditlVM-ently,  putting  the 
hand  successively  into  all  the  moccasins,  endeavouring  to  come 
last  to  that  which  cojitains  the  article ;  but  if  the  hand  is 
thrust  first  into  the  one  containing  it,  he  loses  eiglit.  They  fi\ 
the  value  of  articles  staked  by  agreement ;  for  instance,  they 
sometimes  call  a  beaver  skin,  or  a  blanket,  ten;  sometimes  a 
horse  is  one  hundred.  With  strangers,  they  are  apt  to  play 
high  ;  in  such  cases,  a  horse  is  sometimes  valued  at  ten. 

But  it  is  the  game  called  Bug-ga-sauk,  or  Beg-ga-sah,  thai 
they  play  with  the  most  intense  interest,  and  the  nii- 1  hurtful 
consequences.  The  beg-ga-sah-nuk  are  small  pieces  of  wood, 
bone,  or  sometimes  of  brass,  made  by  cutting  up  an  old  kettle. 
One  side  they  stain  or  colour  black,  the  other  they  aim  to  have 
bright.  These  may  vary  in  number,  but  can  never  be  fewer 
than  nine  ;  they  are  put  together  into  a  large  wooden  bowl,  or 
tray,  kej)t  for  the  purpose.  The  two  parties,  sometimes  twenty 
or  thirty,  sit  down  opposite  each  other,  or  in  a  circle.  The  pla) 
consists  in  strikinor  the  edije  of  the  bowl  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
throw  all  the  beg-jra-sah-nuk  into  the  air,  and  on  the  manner  in 
which  they  fall  into  the  tray  depends  his  gain  or  loss.  If  his 
stroke  has  been  to  a  certain  extent  fortunate,  the  ])layer  strikes 
again,  and  again,  as  in  the  game  of  billiards,  until  he  misses, 
when  it  passes  to  the  next.  The  ])arties  soon  become  much  ox- 
cited,  and  a  freepient  cause  of  (|uarrelling  is,  that  one  oflou 
snatches  the  tray  from  his  neighl)0\ir,  before  the  latter  is  satislicd 
that  the  throw  has  been  against  him. 

Olil  and  sensible  people  among  them  are  much  opposed  to 
mis  uame.  and  it  was  never  until  this  winter  that  Net-no-kw!i 


''       .:■ 


""^'TTT 


r 


TAXNER's    NAMRMlvr. 


IK) 


we  tiscrt 

iiiber  of 

are  used, 

Lick,  or  a 

es.     The 

f  the  ad- 

lis  finger, 

I  thint?  in 

not  in  the 

,   lie  U)scs 

li(^  lust,  lie 

uUiiig   the 

ir  to    coniP 

c   hand   i> 
Tliey  tiK 

ance,  they 

•metinies  a 

ipt  to  play 

en. 

rii-sah,  that 

i,,t  hurtful 

2i^  of  wood. 

1  old  keltl(> 

aim  to  have 
r  be  fewer 
111  bowl,  or 
mes  twenty 
The  pla) 
an  nor  as  to 
|e  manner  in 
loss.     If  lii^ 
layer  strikes 
he  misses, 
|ne  much  ex- 
t  one   often 
r  is  satisfii'il 


opposed  to 
Net-no-kw!( 


siiflt'i'ed  me  to  join  in  it.  In  the  beginning,  our  party  had  some 
success,  but  we  returned  to  it  again  and  again,  until  we  were 
stripped  of  every  thing.  Wiieii  we  had  nothing  more  to  lose, 
ihe  band  which  iiad  jjiayed  against  us  removed  and  camped  at  a 
distance,  and,  as  is  usual,  boasted  much  of  their  success.  When 
1  heard  of  lliis,  I  called  togetlier  the  men  of  our  party,  and  pro- 
posed to  them,  that  by  way  of  making  an  ellort  to  regain  our  lost 
property,  and  put  an  end  to  their  insolent  boasting,  we  woidd 
cro  aii<l  shoot  at  a  mark  with  them.  We  accordingly  raised  some 
property  among  our  friends,  and  went,  in  a  hody,  to  visit  them. 
Seeing  that  we  had  brought  sonietliing,  they  consented  to  play 
uilh  us.  !So  we  set  down  to  Beg-ga-sah,  and  in  the  course  of 
the  evening  re-took  as  much  of  our  lost  property  as  enabled  us 
to  offer,  next  morning,  a  very  handsome  bet,  on  the  residt  of  a 
trial  of  shooting  tlie  mark.  We  staked  every  thing  we  could 
rommand  ;  they  were  loath  to  engage  us,  but  could  not  decently 
ilecline.  We  fixed  a  mark  at  the  distance  of  one  hundred  yards, 
uid  I  sliot  first,  placing  my  ball  nearly  in  the  centre.  Not  one 
of  either  party  came  near  me;  of  course  I  won,  and  we  thus  re- 
gained the  greater  part  of  what  we  had  lost  during  the  winter. 

Late  in  the  sjjring,  when  we  were  nearly  ready  to  leave  Ke- 
mi-k'iu-ne-she-way-bo-ant,  an  old  man,  called  O-zhusk-koo-koon, 
(the  musk  rat's  liver,)  a  chief  of  the  Me-tai,  came  to  my  lodge, 
Ininging  a  young  woman,  his  grand-daughter,  together  with  the 
oiiTs  parents.  This  was  a  handsome  young  girl,  not  more  than 
fifteen  years  old ;  but  Net-no-kwa  did  not  think  favourably  of 
lier.  She  said  to  me,  "  My  son,  these  people  vvill  not  cease  to 
trouble  you,  if  you  remain  here  ;  and  as  the  girl  is  by  no  means  fit 
to  become  your  wife,  I  advise  you  to  take  your  gun  and  go  away. 
Make  a  hunting  camp  at  some  distance,  and  do  not  return  till 
they  have  time  to  see  that  you  are  decidedly  disinclined  to  the 
match."  I  did  so,  and  O-zhusk-koo-koon  apjtareiitly  relinquish- 
ed the  hope  of  marrying  me  to  his  grand-daughter. 

Soon  after  I  returned,  I  was  standing  hy  our  lodge  one  evening, 
Avhen  I  saw  a  good  looking  young  woman  walking  about  and 
smoking.  She  noticed  me  from  time  to  time,  and  at  last  caino 
up  and  asked  me  to  smoke  with  her.  I  answered,  that  I  never 
^moked.  "  You  do  not  wish  to  touch  my  pipe  ;  for  that  reason 
\  on  will  not  smoke  with  me."    I  took  her  pipe  and  smoked  ft 


\ 


ViV 


I    ; 


,--  *    *      - 


'  —>■><«■ 


iKi 


l.VNNKIl  S  NAKR&TIVI:,. 


•i    I 


1 


-.*' 


Wi' 


¥. 


mm  ' 


flJi  :'"' 


little,  lliough  I  liatl  not  been  in  (lui  habit  oC  smokiiiij;  before.  Shi' 
reiiiained  some  time,  and  tnlked  with  inc,  uiid  1  be^ran  tu  be 
pleased  with  her.  After  this  wo  saw  each  other  often,  and  1  bc» 
came  gradnally  attached  to  her. 

I  mention  this  because  it  was  to  this  woman  that  I  was  after- 
wards married,  and  because  the  commencement  of  our  accjuaint- 
ance  was  not  after  the  usual  manner  of  the  Indians.  Among 
them,  it  most  commonly  happens,  even  when  a  young  man  mar- 
ries a  woman  of  his  own  band,  he  has  |)reviuusly  iiad  no  per- 
sonal ac(|uaiiitance  with  her.  They  have  s<'en  each  other  in  the 
village  ;  he  has  perhaps  looked  at  her  in  passing,  but  it  is  proba- 
ble they  have  never  spoken  together.  The  match  is  agreed  on 
by  the  (dd  people,  and  when  their  intention  is  made  known  to 
the  young  couple,  they  conmionly  find,  in  themselves,  no  objec- 
tion to  the  arrangement,  as  they  know,  should  it  prove  disa- 
greeable mutually,  or  to  either  party,  it  can  at  any  time  b(! 
broken  ofT. 

My  conversations  with  Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa,  (the  red  sky  of 
the  morning,)  for  such  was  the  name  of  the  woman  who  olfercd 
me  her  pipe,  was  soon  noised  about  the  village.  Hearing  it, 
and  inferring,  probably,  that  like  other  young  men  of  my  age,  I 
was  thinking  of  taking  a  wife,  old  ()-zhusk-koo-koon  came  one 
day  to  our  lodge,  leading  by  the  hand  another  of  his  numerous 
grand-daughters.  "  This,"  said  he,  to  Net-no-kwa,  "  is  the 
handsomest  and  the  best  of  all  my  descendants ;  I  come  to  offer 
Jier  to  your  son,"  So  saying,  he  left  her  in  the  lodge  and  went 
away.  This  young  woman  was  one  Net-no-kwa  had  always 
treated  with  unusual  kindness,  and  she  was  considered  one  of 
the  most  desirable  in  the  band.  The  old  woman  was  now  some- 
what embarrassed  ;  but  at  length  she  found  an  opportunity  to 
say  to  me,  "  My  son,  this  girl  which  O-zhusk-koo-koon  offers 
you,  is  handsome,  and  she  is  good  ;  but  you  nmst  not  marry  her, 
for  she  has  that  about  her  which  will,  in  less  than  a  year,  bring 
her  to  her  grave.  It  is  necessary  that  you  should  have  a  woman 
who  is  strong  and  free  of  any  disease.  Let  us,  therefore,  make 
this  young  woman  a  handsome  present,  for  she  deserves  well  at 
our  hands,  and  send  her  back  to  her  father."  She  accordingly 
gave  her  goods  to  a  considerable  amount,  and  she  went  homr 


—  I  ■ml  jr 


V  '1 

t) 

fl"f.' 


iANNiClt'ri    NAKRATIVl.. 


iir 


Less  fhan  u  year  uflerwards,  according  to  the  old  woman's  pro- 
diclioii,  she  diod. 

In  llii'  mran  time,  Mis-kwa-l)iin-o-kwa  and  niystdf  were  be- 
coniiriff  nidio  and  more  intiniiiti-.  It  is  jjrohahlc  lNct-no-U\va  did 
not  disa|)|)rov('  of  llie  {■(iiiivf  1  was  now  about  to  lake,  as,  llioutrh 

said  iiothinir  l(»  lur  on  the  suhji-rt,  she  coiihl  not  have  been  ig- 
ifcorant  of  what  I  vv.i-  doing.  'I'hal  she  was  not  I  i'oimd,  when 
•AUi'r  spending,  for  the  lost  lime,  a  eonsideralde  part  of  the  night 
vyith  my  mi.~iress,  I  crept  into  the  hidge  at  a  late  hum,  and  went 
tl)  sleej).  A  smart  rapping  on  my  naked  feet  waked  me  at  tlie 
fivst  ap]iearaiic«'  of  dawn,  on  llie  foUowing  morning.  "  Up," 
said  the  (dd  woman,  who  stood  !)y  me,  willi  a  stick  in  her  hand, 
"  up,  young  man,  you  who  are  about  to  take  for  yourself  a  wife, 
lip,  and  start  after  game.  It  will  raise  you  more  in  the  estinui- 
tion  of  the  woman  you  wouhl  marry,  to  see  you  bring  home  u 
load  of  meiit  early  in  the  morning,  than  to  see  you  tiressed  ever 
so  gaily,  standing  about  the  village  after  the  hunters  are  all  gone 
out."  I  could  make  her  no  answer,  but,  putting  ou  my  mocca- 
sins, took  my  gun  and  went  out.  Returning  before  noon,  with 
as  heavy  a  load  of  fat  moose  meat  as  I  could  carry,  I  threw  it 
down  before  Net-no-kwa,  and  with  a  harsh  tone  of  vmcv  said  to 
lier,  "  here,  old  woman,  is  what  you  called  for  in  the  morning." 
She  was  much  pleased,  and  commended  me  for  my  exertion.  I 
now  became  satisfied  that  she  was  not  displeased  on  account  of 
my  affair  with  Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa,  and  it  gave  mc  no  small 
pleasure  to  think  that  my  conduct  met  her  approbation.  There 
aje  many  of  the  Indians  who  throw  away  and  nejilect  their  oKI 
people ;  but  though  Net-no-kwa  was  now  decrepid  and  infirm,  I 
felt  the  strongest  regard  for  her,  and  continued  to  do  so  w  hile 
sh»'  lived. 

I  now  redoubled  my  diligence  in  hunting,  and  commoidy  came 
home  with  meat  in  the  early  |)art  of  the  day,  at  least  before  night. 
I  tlcn  dressed  myself  as  handsomely  as  I  could,  and  walked  about 
tlie  village,  sometimes  blowing  the  Pe-be-gwun,  or  flute.  For 
some  time  Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa  pretended  she  was  not  willing  to 
marry  me,  and  it  was  not,  perhaps,  until  she  ))erceived  some 
abatement  of  ardour  on  my  j)art,  that  she  laid  this  affected  coy- 
ness entirely  aside.  For  my  own  part,  I  found  that  my  anxiety 
to  take  a  wife  hom«  to  my  lodj^e,  was  rapidly  becoming  less  and 


5 


:\ 


r    •/ 


I       \ 


^M'"''- 


I L 


118 


tanner's  narrative. 


,  r 


ii'M^ll' 


less.  I  made  several  efforts  to  break  off  the  intercourse,  and 
visit  her  no  more;  hut  a  lingeriiiir  inclination  was  too  strong  for 
me.  Wlien  she  perreived  my  growing  indiilerencc,  she  some- 
times re|)roat'hed  me,  and  sometimes  sought  to  move  me  by  tears 
a'ld  entreaties  ;  but  1  said  nothing  to  the  old  woman  about  bring-  , 
mg  her  hi>me,  and  became  daily  more  and  more  unwilling  to  ac-j 
knowledge  her  jjidjlicly  as  ms  wiCe.  / 

About  this  lime,  I  had  occasion  to  go  to  the  trading-house  oii 
Red  Uivei,  and  I  started  ii  com|iany  with  a  half  breed,  l)el(»ngr 
ing  ti»  that  establishment,  who  was  mounted  on  a  fleet  horse. 
The  distance  we  had  to  travel  has  since  been  called,  by  tin 
English  settlers,  seventy  miles.  We  rode  and  went  on  foot  by 
turns,  and  the  one  wiio  was  on  Ibcii  kept  hold  of  the  horse's  tail, 
and  ran.  We  passed  over  the  whole  distance  in  one  day.  In 
retinidng,  !  was  by  myself,  and  without  a  horse,  and  I  made  an 
effort,  intemling,  if  possible,  to  accomplish  the  same  journey  iit 
one  day;  but  darkness,  and  excessive  fatigue,  compelled  me  to 
stop  when  I  was  within  about  ten  miles  of  home. 

When  I  arrived  at  our  lodge,  on  the  following  day,  I  saw  ]VIi>- 
kwa-bun-o-kwa  sitting  in  my  place.  As  I  stopped  at  the  door 
of  the  lodge,  and  hesitated  to  enter,  she  Ining  down  her  head  : 
but  Net-no-kwa  greeted  me  in  a  tone  somewhat  harsher  than 
was  common  for  iier  to  use  to  ine.  "  Will  you  turn  back  from 
the  door  of  the  lodge,  and  put  this  youiiL^  wtuiian  to  shame,  who 
is  in  all  respects  better  than  you  are.  This  affair  has  been  of 
your  seeking,  and  not  of  mine  or  hers.  You  have  followed  her 
about  the  village  heretofore ;  nctw  you  would  turn  from  her,  and 
make  her  appear  like  one  who  has  atleniptcfl  (o  thrust  herself  in 
your  way."  I  was,  in  part,  conscious  of  the  justness  of  Nct-no- 
kwa's  reproaches,  and  in  part  prompted  by  inclination  ;  I  went 
in  and  sat  down  by  the  side  of  Mis-kwa-bun-o-kwa.  and  thOs 
we  became  man  and  wife.  Old  Net-no-kwa  had,  while  1  was 
absent  at  Red  River,  wilhotit  my  knowledjrp  or  consent,  made 
her  barirain  with  the  parents  of  the  young  woman,  and  brought 
her  home,  rightly  supposing  that  it  would  be  no  difficidt  matter 
to  reconcile  me  to  the  measure.  In  most  of  the  marriages  which 
happen  between  young  persiMis,  the  parties  most  interested  have 
less  to  do  than  in  this  case.  The  amount  of  |iresenls  which  the 
parents  of  ii  woman  expe<'l  to  receiic  in  ex<'haniie  for  her,  dimi- 
in'shes  in  proportion  to  lite  unmber  vi'  hiishnnds  she  may  have  had. 


'<*• 


urse,  and 
trong  lor 
lie  some- 
;  by  leare 
)iit  bring-  , 
ing  to  aC'i 

i 
-house  oil 

1,  brlitngr 

>pl  horse. 

<1,  by  th  3 

11  loot  by 

)rs(''s  tail, 

(lay.     In 

I  math'  an 

oiirney  in 

led  me  to 

[  saw  Mis- 
t  tlie  dooi 
her  Jiead  : 
isher  than 
back  I'rom 
lainc,  who 
been  ol 
o\\v{\  hei 
her,  and 
icrseir  ill 
»(■  Nct-no- 
;   I  ui'iit 
and   thils 
ilr   I   was 
lit,  ma(h- 
brought 
lilt  maltei- 
ges  which 
<t»'d  have 
which  the 
her,  diini- 
hn\  e  had. 


'rANN'EIl's    KARRATIVr. 


in» 


fhHM 


CHAPTER    Vin. 

l'rp]mrntinns  lor  a  war  pxcursion — ticnlri  of  bulliiloc  heard  at  a  ctrt'iit  distHnct'— 
ti'rrililc  i(iiniicts:iiiioni;  llic  hulls— olisiTNiUiccsoI'llii'  yoiinjx  wiirriors — Kii-/.au- 
buii-zicli-r-jjiin,  ordiviiiiitiori  lo  diHcovi'r  the  situation  of  an  enemy — Jeelii-ufr, 
or  iiieiMoriuls  of  decpiiscd  friends  to  he  thrown  away  on  the  field  of  battle  ;  and 
the  desijrii  of  the  custom — war-party  hrokeii  u|)  hy  the  iiitert'erence  ol'  a  rival 
chiefs — stupidity  of  tlie  poreujiiiK' — I  save  the  li(e  ol  my  foster  hrolher — Alhino 
bears — Waw-lM'-no — marria;:,'e  of  Hi-che-to  and  Sk  wu-shisli — attack  id  a  Sioux 
war-party,  and  pursuit  to  the  village  ut  thief  Muuntain,  and  the  head  of  the  St , 
Peters,  &c. 

Four  days  after  I  returned  from  Red  River,  we  moved  to  the 
woods;  Wa-ine-gon-a-l)iew,  with  his  two  wives,  and  his  laiiiily; 
Waw-be-be-nais-sa,  with  one  wife  and  several  children  ;  iiiyselt" 
and  wile,  and  the  rainily  of  Nel-no-kwa.  We  directed  our  course 
towards  the  ('raiieberry  River,  [l*eiiii)iiiali,]  aswe  wished  to  select 
near  that  |)lace  a  favourable  spot  where  our  women  and  children 
might  remain  encamped,  it  being  our  intention  to  join  a  war-party 
then  preparing  to  go  against  the  Sioux.  When  we  had  chosen 
a  suitable  jilace,  we  applied  ourselves  diligently  to  hiintiiig,  that 
we  might  leave  dry  meal  enough  to  supjdy  the  wants  of  our 
families  in  our  absence.  It  liappeiicd.  one  morning,  that  I  went 
to  hunt  with  only  three  balls  in  my  pouch  ;  and  finding  a  large 
])uck  moose,  I  fired  at  him  rather  hastily,  and  missed  him  twice 
in  succession.  The  third  time  I  hit,  init  did  not  kill  him,  only 
WDundiiig  him  in  the  shoulder.  I  pursutMl,  aii<!  at  leiigih  overtook 
him,  but  having  no  balls,  I  look  the  screws  out  of  my  gun,  tying 
the  lock  on  with  a  string,  and  it  was  not  till  after  I  had  shot  three 
of  them  into  him,  that  he  fell. 

We  had  killed  a  coiisichrable  tiuanlity  of  meal,  and  the  women 
were  engaged  in  drying  il,  when,  fei  ling  ciiriinis  to  know  the 
state  of  forwardness  of  the  war-purly  at  Pembinnh,  and  how  soon 
they  would  start,  we  loidv  our  horses  and  rode  down,  leaving 
Wnw-he-be-nnis-sn    with    the   women.     When    we   arrived  we 


l 


r 


i(  'J.:      ' 


I       ' 


1^ 


tanner's   NARRATIVi;. 


found  forty  men  of  the  Muskegoos,  ready  to  depart  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  and  though  we  had  come  witliout  our  mocca- 
sins, or  any  of  llie  usual  preparations,-  we  determined  to  accom- 
pany them.  Great  numbers  of  Ojilibeways  and  Crees  had  as- 
sembled, but  they  seemed,  in  general,  unwilling  to  accompa- 
ny the  Muskegoes,  as  this  band  is  not  in  very  high  repute  among 
them.  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  was  willing  to  dissuade  nje  from 
going,  urging,  that  we  had  belter  put  it  off,  and  go  with  the 
Ojibbeways  in  the  fall.  But  1  assured  him  I  would  by  no  means 
lose  the  present  opportunity,  inasmuch  as  we  could  both  go  now 
and  in  the  fall  also. 

By  the  end  of  th<'  second  day  after  we  left  Pembiiuih,  we  had 
not  a  mouthfid  to  eat,  ai\d  were  beginning-  to  be  hungry.  When 
we  laid  down  in  our  camp  at  night,  and  put  our  ears  close  to  the 
ground,  we  could  hear  the  tramp  of  bullaloes;  but  when  we 
sat  up  we  could  hear  nothing,  and  on  the  following  uu)rning  no- 
thing could  be  seen  of  them,  though  we  could  command  a  very 
extensive  view  of  the  prairie.  Xa  we  knew  they  must  not  be  far 
olK  in  the  direction  of  the  sounds  we  had  heard,  eight  nuMi,  ol 
whom  I  was  one,  were  selected  and  despatched  to  kill  some,  and 
bring  the  meat  to  a  point  where  it  was  agreed  the  j)arty  shoidd 
stop  next  night.  The  noise  we  could  still  hear  in  the  morning, 
by  applying  our  ears  to  the  ground,  and  it  st-emed  about  as  far 
distant,  and  in  the  same  direction,  as  before.  We  started  early, 
and  rode  scune  hours  before  we  could  begin  to  see  them,  and 
when  we  first  discovered  the  margin  of  the  herd,  it  must  hav«' 
been  at  least  ten  miles  distant.  It  was  like  a  black  line,  drawn 
along  the  odfye  of  the  sky,  or  a  low  shore  seen  across  a  lake 
The  (listaiK-e  of  the  herd  from  the  place  where  we  lirst  heard 
them,  could  not  have  been  less  than  twenty  miles.  But  it  was 
now  the  rutting  season,  and  various  parts  of  the  herd  w«'re  all 
the  time  kept  in  rajtid  motion,  by  the  severe  tights  of  the  bulls. 
To  tile  noise  pr(tdu("ed  by  the  knocking  together  of  the  two  di- 
visions of  the  hoof,  when  they  raised  their  feel  from  the  irronnd, 
nnd  of  their  incessant  tramping,  was  added  the  loud  and  lurious 
roar  of  the  bulls,  'ogaged  as  they  all  were  in  their  terrific  ant? 
ap|)alling  conflicts.  We  were  conscious  that  our  approach  to 
the  herd  would  not  occafiion  the  alarm  now,  that  it  would  have 
ilone  at  any  other  lime,  and  we  rode  dirfxtly  towards  (hem.     A»- 


\       t 


IANNKR's    \-\RRATlVt. 


lai 


we  came  ueav,  we  killed  a  wounded  bull,  which  scarce  made  an 
effort  to  escape  from  us.  He  had  wounds  in  his  flanks,  into 
which  I  could  put  my  whole  hand.  As  we  knew  that  the  flesh 
of  the  bulls  was  not  now  good  to  eat,  we  did  not  wish  to  kill 
them,  though  we  might  easily  have  shot  any  number.  Dismount- 
ing; we  put  our  horses  in  the  care  of  some  of  our  number, 
who  were  willing  to  stay  back  for  that  purpose,  and  then  crept 
into  the  herd  to  try  to  iiiil  some  cows.  I  had  separated  from  the 
others,  and  advancing,  got  entangled  among  the  bulls.  Before  I 
found  an  opportunity  to  shoot  a  cow,  the  bulls  began  to  fight 
very  near  me.  In  their  fury  they  were  totally  unconscious  of 
my  presence,  and  came  rushing  towards  me  with  such  violence, 
that  in  some  alarm  for  my  safety,  I  took  refuge  in  one  of  those 
jioles  which  are  so  frequert  where  these  animals  abound,  and 
which  they  themselves  dig  to  wallow  in.  Here  I  found  that 
ihey  were  pressing  directly  upon  me,  and  I  was  compelled  to 
lire  to  disperse  them,  in  which  I  did  not  succeed  until  I  had  kill- 
ed four  of  them.  By  this  firing  the  cows  were  so  frightened 
that  I  perceived  I  should  not  be  able  to  kill  any  in  this  quarter ; 
«o  regaining  my  horse,  I  rode  to  a  distant  part  of  the  herd,  where 
(he  Indians  had  s\iccoedi'd  in  killing  a  fat  cow.  But  from  this 
row,  as  is  usual  in  similar  cases,  the  herd  had  all  moved  off,  ex- 
cept one  bull,  who,  when  I  came  up,  still  kept  the  Indians  at 
bay.  "  You  are  warriors,"  said  I,  as  I  rode  u[),  *'  going  far  from 
your  own  country,  to  seek  an  enemy ;  but  you  cannot  take  his 
wife  from  that  old  bull,  who  has  nothing  in  his  hands."  So 
saying,  I  passed  them  directly,  towards  the  bull,  then  standing 
something  more  than  two  hundred  yards  distant.  He  no  sooner 
.saw  me  approach,  than  he  came  plunging  towards  me  with  such 
impetuosity,  that  kuowiiiff  tiie  dauirer  to  my  horse  and  myself, 
I  tuin.^d  and  fled.  The  Indians  laughed  heartily  at  my  repulse, 
but  they  did  not  give  over  their  attempts  to  get  at  the  cow.  By 
tlividing  the  attention  of  the  bidl,  and  creeping  up  to  him  on  dif- 
ferent sides,  they  at  length  shot  him  down.  While  we  were  cut- 
ting up  the  cow,  tlie  herd  were  at  no  great  distance,  and  an  old 
cow,  which  the  Indians  supposed  to  be  the  mother  of  the  one  wo 
had  killed,  taking  the  Hccnt  of  the  blood,  came  running  with 
great  violence  directly  towards  us.  The  Indians  were  alarmed 
md  fled,   many  of  them  not  having  their  guns  iji  their  hand;;; 

10 


/., 


i. 


f  h.vf  j 


1 


I 


t  ( 


I 


lAWKR  S    WRRVIUL. 


but  I  had  carefully  ro-loadod  mine,  and  liad  it  ready  lor  uhc. 
Throwing  myself  down  close  to  the  body  of  the  row,  and  behind 
it,  I  waited  till  the  other  came  u])  within  a  few  yards  of  the  car- 
ease,  when  I  fired  upon  her ;  she  turned,  gave  one  or  two  jumps, 
and  fell  dead.  Wc  had  now  the  meat  of  two  fat  cows,  which 
Avas  as  much  as  we  wanted  ;  accordingly,  we  repaired  without 
flelay  to  the  appointed  place,  where  we  found  our  party,  whose 
hunger  was  already  somewhat  allayed  by  a  deer  one  of  them  had 
killed. 

I  now  began  to  attend  to  some  of  the  ceremonies  of  what  may 
be  called  the  initiation  of  warriors,  tliis  being  the  first  time  I  had 
been  on  a  war-party.  For  the  three  lirst  times  that  a  man  ac 
companies  a  war-party,  the  customs  of  the  Indians  require  somt 
peculiar  aud  paiiiful  observances,  from  which  old  warriors  maj  . 
if  they  choose,  be  exempted.  The  young  warrior  must  constant- 
ly paint  his  face  black  ;  must  wear  a  cap,  or  head  dress  of  some 
kind  ;  must  never  precede  the  older  warriors,  but  follow  them, 
stepping  in  their  tracks.  He  must  never  scratch  his  head,  or  an) 
other  part  of  ills  body,  with  his  lingers,  br.t  >f  he  is  compelled  to 
scratch,  he  must  use  a  small  stick ;  the  vessel  he  eats  or  drink^ 
out  of,  or  the  knife  lie  uses,  must  be  touched  by  no  other  person. 
In  the  two  last  mentioned  particulars,  the  observances  of  the 
young  warriors  ar«'  like  those  the  females,  in  some  bands,  use 
during  tlie'r  earliest  juMMods  of  menstruation.  The  young  war- 
rior, however  long  aiul  fatiguing  the  nuirch,  nnist  neither  eat. 
nor  drink,  iu)r  sit  down  by  day  ;  if  he  halts  for  a  moment,  he 
must  turn  his  face  towards  his  own  country,  that  the  Great  Spirit 
may  see  that  it  is  his  wish  to  return  home  again. 

At  night,  they  ol)serve  a  certain  order  in  their  encampments 
If  there  are  bushes  where  they  halt,  the  camj)  is  enclosed  b\ 
these  stuck  into  the  groiuul,  so  as  to  include  a  sipiare,  or  oblong' 
s))ace,  « ith  a  jtassage,  or  door,  in  one  end,  which  is  always  that 
towards  the  enemy's  country.  If  there  are  not  bushes,  they 
mark  the  ground  in  the  same  manner,  with  small  sticks,  or  thi 
stalks  of  the  weeds  which  grow  in  the  ])rairie.  Near  the  gate,  or 
entrance  to  this  camp,  is  the  principal  chief  and  the  ohl  warriors; 
next  follow  in  order,  according  to  age  aud  rejtutation,  the  young- 
•'r  men;  and  last  of  all,  in  the  extrenu"  end  of  the  camp,  those 
« itli  bluekeil   t'lice  .  whi>  are  makintr  their  first  excursion.     Ali 


I 


1  ANNKR  ,S    NARKA'l  U  i.. 


l-^:i 


I-  for  uht'- 
id  behind 
f  the  car- 
vo  jumps. 
rs,   which 
d  without 
ty,  whos(? 
;  them  had 

what  may 
time  1  had 
a  man  ac 
juire  some 
riors  ma} . 
it  conslant- 
ss  of  som<' 
How  them, 
ead,  or  an> 
impelled  to 
#  or  dr^nk^ 
her  person, 
nces  of  the 
bands,  use 
young  war- 
neither  eal. 
moment,  lu 
[treat  Spirii 

campment> 
nelosed  b\ 
or  oblong' 
always  tliut 
ushes,  they 
(ks,  or  thf 
\\u'  jrale,  or 
d  warriors; 
the  young- 
amp,  thosr 
orsion.     Ali 


the  warriors,  both  old  and  young,  sleep  with  their  fares  toward.- 

their  own  country,  and,  on  no  consideration,  howevir  uneasy  theii 

1         position,  or  however  great  their  fatiiruo,  musi  make  any  ehange 

I         of  attitude,  nor  must  any  two  lie  upon,  or  be  coverrd  by  the  same 

'  ■'         blanket.     In  their  marches,  llie  warriors,  if  they  ever  sit  down. 

*  must  not  sit  upon  the  luiked  frromul,  but  must  at  least  liave  some 
grass  or  bushes  under  them.     They  nnist,  if  possible,  avoid  wet- 

*  ting  their  feet ;  Init  if  they  arc  ever  compeHed  to  wade  thvongli 
a  swamp,  or  to  cross  a  stream,  they  must  keep  their  clothes  dry, 
and  whip  their  legs  with  bushes  or  grass,  when  they  come  out 

f  of  the  water.  They  must  never  walk  in  a  beaten  path  if  they  can 
i  avoid  it;  but  if  they  cannot  at  all  times,  then  \\\v.y  nuist  put  me- 
dicine on  their  legs,  which  they  carry  for  tliat  purpose.  A.ny  av- 
'  tide  belonging  to  any  of  the  party,  such  as  his  gun,  his  blanket, 
tomahawk,  knife,  or  war  club,  must  not  be  stepj)ed  tiver  by  any 
other  person,  neither  must  the  legs,  liands,  or  body  of  any  oin' 
who  is  sitting  or  lying  on  tlic  ground.  Should  tliis  rule  be  inad- 
vertently violated,  it  is  the  duty  of  the  one  to  whom  the  article 
stepped  over  may  belong,  to  seize  the  other  and  throw  him  on 
the  ground,  and  tlie  latter  nnist  sulfer  liiinself  to  hv,  thrown  down, 
even  slioidd  he  be  much  stronger  than  the  other.  The  vessels 
which  they  carry  to  eat  out  of,  are  commonly  small  liowls  of 
wood,  or  of  birch  bark  ;  they  are  nnirked  across  the  middle,  and 
the  Indians  have  some  mark  by  which  they  distinguish  the  two 
sides;  in  going  o\it  from  home  they  drink  invariably  out  of  om- 
side,  and  in  retin*ning,  from  the  other.  When  on  their  way  home, 
and  within  one  day  of  the  village,  they  suspend  all  tlu's«!  buwl>^ 
on  trees,  or  throw  them  away  in  the  jirairie. 

I  should  have  mentioned,  that  in  their  em'umpnuMifs  at  night, 
the  chief  who  conducts  tin;  party,  sends  sonu'  (d'  his  yoniig  men 
a  little  distance  in  advance,  to  prepare  what  is  called  I'ushkwaw- 
gumme-genahgun,  the  piece  of  cleared  groinnl  where  the  ko/,a  i- 
bun-zichegun,  or  divination  by  which  the  position  of  the  enemv 
is  to  be  discovered,  is  to  Ik;  performed.  This  spot  of  (lea.ed 
ground  s  prepared  by  removing  the  turf  from  a  considerable  sur- 
face, in  form  of  u  parallelogram,  and  willi  the  hands  breaking  up 
the  soil,  to  make  it  fine  and  soft,  and  which  is  so  inclosed  with 
poles  that  none  can  step  on  it.  The  chief,  when  he  is  informed 
that  the  place.  i«  ready,  goes  and  fits  down  at  the  end  opjioHJto  thai 


/ 


^  .iftBri 


VZi 


TANNER  S  NARRATIVE- 


'i     • 


't 


(^1 


4f 


of  the  enemy's  country ;  then,  after  singing  and  praying,  he  placea 
before  him,  on  tJie  margin  of  the  piece  of  ground,  which  may  be 
compared  to  a  bed  in  a  garden,  two  small  roundish  stones.  After 
the  chief  has  remained  here  by  himself  for  some  time,  entreating 
the  (ireat  Spirit  to  show  him  the  path  in  which  he  ought  to  lead 
his  young  men,  a  crier  goes  to  him  from  the  camp,  and  then  re- 
turning part  way,  he  calls  by  name  some  of  the  principal  men, 
saying,  "  come  smoke."  Others  also,  if  they  wish  it,  who  are  not 
called,  repair  to  the  chief,  and  they  then  examine,  by  striking  a 
light,  the  result  of  the  kozau-bun-zichegun.  The  two  stones  which 
the  chief  placed  on  the  margin  of  the  bed,  have  moved  across  to 
the  opposite  end,  and  it  is  from  the  appearance  of  the  path  they 
have  left  in  passing  over  the  soft  ground,  that  they  infer  the  course 
they  are  to  pursue. 

At  this  i)lace  of  divination,  the  ofl'erings  of  cloth,  beads,  and 
whatever  other  articles  the  chief  and  each  man  may  carry  for  sa- 
crifice, arc  exposed  during  the  night  on  a  pole;  also,  their  je-bi- 
ug,  or  memorials   of  their  dead   friends,  which  are  to  be  thrown 
away  on  the  field  of  battle,  or,  if  possible,  tlirust  into  the  ripped  u]:i 
bowels  ol'  their  enemies,  who  may  fall  in  the  fight.     If  a  warrior 
has  lost,  by  death,  a  favourite  child,  he  carries,  if  possible,  some 
article  of  dress,  or  perhaps  some  toy,  which  belonged  to  the  child, 
or  more  commonly  .i  lock  of  his  hair,  which  they  seek  to  throw 
away  e-i  the  field  of  battle.     The  scouts  who  precede  a  war  party 
into  an  enemy's  country,   if  they  happen,  in  lurking  about  their 
lodges,  or  in  their  old  encampments,  to  discover  any  of  the  toys 
that  have  been  dropped  by  the   children,  such  as  little  bows,  or 
even  a  piece  of  '^.  broken  arrow,  pick  it  up,  and  carefully  preserve 
it  until  they  return  to  the  party  ;  then,  if  they  know  of  a  man  who 
has  lost  his  child,  they  throw  it  to  him,  saying,  "  your  little  son 
is  in  that  place,  we  saw  him  playing  with  the  children  of  our  ene- 
mies, will  you  go  and  see  him  ?"     The  bereaved  father  commonly 
takes  it  up.  and  havintr  looked  upon  it  awhile,  falls  to  crying,  and 
is  then  ready  nnd  eager  to  go  against   the  enemy.     An  Indian 
chief,  when  he  leads  out  his  war  party,  has  no  other  means  of 
control  over  the  individuals  composing  it,  than  his  personal  in- 
fluence gives  him ;  it  is  therefore  necessary  they  should  have 
some  method  of  rousing  and  stimulating  themselves  to  exertion. 
A-gus-ko-gaut,  the  Mu^kego  chief,  whom  we  accompanied  on 


T'  ^..~-'- 


I'ANNER  S    NARRATlVt., 


u: 


;  he  places 
ch  may  be 
les.    After 
entreating 
ght  to  lead 
lid  then  re- 
el pal  men, 
vho  are  not 
r  striking  a 
ones  which 
;d  acrorfs  to 
e  path  they 
r  the  course 

beads,  and 
;arry  lor  sa- 
,  their  je-bi- 
3  be  thrown 
le  ripped  up 
If  a  warrior 
ssible,  some 
to  the  child, 
ek  to  throw 
a  war  party 

about  their 

of  the  toys 
tie  bows,  ov 

y  preserve 
fa  man  who 
lur  little  son 
1  of  our  ene- 
r  commonly 

crying,  and 
An  Indian 

r  means  of 

)ersonal  in- 
lould  havf 

to  exertion. 

impanied  on 


this  occasion,  called  himself  a  prophet  of  the  Great  Spirit,  like 
the  one  who  appeared  some  years  since  anions^  the  !Shawanee«. 
He  liad,  some  time  before,  lost  his  son,  and  on  this  party  he  car- 
ried the  jebi,  with  the  determination  of  leaving  it  in  a  bloody 
rield ;  but  this  design  was  frustrated  by  the  interference  of  Ta- 
busli-shah,*  (he  that  dodges  down,)  who  now  overlook  us  with 
twenty  men.  This  restk'ss  aiul  anil)ilious  Ojibbeway,  was  unwil- 
ling that  any  l)Ul  himself  should  lead  a  party  against  the  Sioux; 
more  particularly,  that  any  (>f  his  own  daring  Hctions  should  be 
eclipsed  by  the  prowess  of  so  despised  a  people  as  the  Muskegoes. 
But  on  first  joinina:  us,  his  professions  manifested  ncthing  un- 
friendly to  our  undertaking ;  on  the  contrary,  he  pretended  he 
had  come  to  aiil  his  brethren,  the  Muskegoes,  A-gus-ko-gaut 
could  searce  have  been  ignorant  of  the  feelings  and  intentions  of 
Ta-husli-shah  ;  but  nevertheless,  he  received  him  with  the  utmost 
;ipparent  cordiality  and  pleasure. 

We  journeyed  on  in  company  for  some  days,  when  In  crossinti' 
some  of  the  wide  prairies,  our  thirst  became  so  excessive  that  we 
were  compelled  to  vitdate  some  of  the  rules  of  the  war  party. 
The  principal  men  were  acquainted  with  the  general  features  of 
the  country  we  had  to  pass,  and  knew  that  water  could  be  found 
within  a  few  miles  of  us,  but  most  of  the  older  warriors  being  on 
foot,  were  exhausted  with  fatigue  and  thirst.  In  this  emergency, 
it  became  necessary  that  such  of  the  parly  as  hatl  horses,  amoni; 
whom  were  Wa-nie-gon-a-biew  and  myself,  should  go  forward 
and  search  l.»r  water;  and  when  it  was  found,  make  such  a  sig- 
nal a.s  would  inform  the  main  body  what  course  to  pursue.  I  was 
among  the  Hrsl  to  "lisrover  a  place  where  water  could  be  had  ; 
but  bel'ore  all  the  men  could  come  u])  lo  it,  the  sulVering  of  some 
of  them  had  become  excessive.  Those  who  had  arrived  at  the 
spring,  continued  to  discharge  tiu'ir  guns  during  the  niaht,  and  the. 
stragglers  dropped  in  from  dilTerent  directions,  some  vomiting 
blood,  and  some  in  a  state  of  madness. 

As  we  rested  at  this  spring,  »<  old  man  called  Ah-tek-oons,  (the 
Little  Caribou,)  made  a  Kozau-liun-zichegun,  or  divination,  and 
announced  afterwards,  that  in  a  particular  direction  whieh  he 
pointed  out,  was  a  large  band  of  Sioux  warriors,  coming  directlv 

♦  From  tub-biiz-zreii.  imperative,  "  Do  thou  dodije  down." 


v1. 


.— j 


.■.II    Mpg-wr 


i    \ 


i. 


■i^ 


'^•jitff 


r'f.r 


r^ 


lA.NNEKS    NARUAlIVt. 


towards  us ;  that  if  wo  could  turn  to  the  right  or  to  tiie  iett,  autj 
avoid  inoetinif  them,  we  might  proceed  unmolested  to  their  coun- 
try, and  be  able  to  do  some  mischief  to  the  women  in  their  villa- 
ges ;  but  that  if  we  suflered  them  to  come  upon  us,  and  attack  us. 
w-e  should  be  cut  off,  to  a  man.  Ta-b\ish-shah  affected  to  place 
the  most  implicit  reliance  on  this  prediction;  but  the  Muskegoc 
chief,  and  the  Muskegoes  generally,  would  not  listen  to  it. 

There  was  now  an  incij)ient  murmur  of  discontent,  and  some 
few  openly  talked  ol' abandoning  A-gus-ko-gaut,  and  returning-  to 
their  own  country ;  but  for  some  days  nothing  occurred,  except 
the  discovery,  by  some  of  our  spies,  of  a  single  Indian,  at  a  dis- 
tance, who  fled  immediately  on  being  seen,  and  was  fron\  that  cir- 
cumstance supposed  to  be  one  of  a  Hioux  war  party-  One  morn- 
ing we  came  to  a  herd  of  butfaloe,  and  i)eing  withoiit  any  food, 
several  of  the  young  men  were  dispersed  about  to  kill  some.  W( 
had  iH)\v,  since  the  discovery  of  the  Sioux,  been  travelling  only 
by  night,  k(;eping  ourselves  concealed  in  the  day  time.  But  the 
unguarded  manner  in  which  the  Muskegoes  suffered  their  younj: 
men  to  pursue  the  buffaloe,  riding  about  in  open  day,  and  dischar- 
ging their  guns,  aflorded  Ta-bush-shah  an  opportunity  to  effeci 
what  was  probably  the  sole  design  of  his  journey,  a  disunion  ot 
the  party,  and  eventually  the  frustration  of  all  the  designs  ol 
A-gus-ko-gaut. 

Our  camp  being  profusely  supplied  with  meat,  we  had  some- 
thing like  a  general  feast ;  the  party  was  regularly  and  compactl\ 
arranged,  and  after  they  had  eaten,  Ta-bush-shah  arose  and  ha- 
rangued them  in  a  loud  voiee.  "  You,  3Iuskegoes,"  said  he. 
"  are  not  warriors,  though  you  ha-e  come  very  far  from  your  own 
country,  as  you  say,  to  lind  the  Hioux;  but  though  hundreds  ol 
your  enemies  may  be,  and  probably  are,  immediately  about  us, 
you  can  never  find  one  of  iheni,  unless  they  fall  upon  you  to  kill 
you."  In  the  close  of  his  address,  he  expressed  his  determinii 
lion  to  ahainlon  the  cause  of  a  party  so  bailly  conducted,  and  re- 
turn to  his  owi\  country  with  his  twenty  men. 

When  he  had  spoken,  Pe-zhew-o-ste-gwnn,  (the  wild  cat's  head,) 
the  orator  of  A-gus-ko-gaut,  re|died  to  him.  "Now,"  said  he, 
"  we  see  plainly  why  our  brothers,  the  Ojibbcways  and  Crees. 
were  iu)t  willing  Income  with  us  from  Red  River.  You  are  near 
your  own  country,  and  it  is  of  little  importance  to  you,  whethe- 


I    hi ' 


\i 


TAXNKR  S    NAKRATlXi:. 


m 


lett,  ami 
leir  coun- 
licir  villa- 
attack  u?. 
I  to  place 
Vluskegoc 
it. 

and  some 
turniiiff  to 
ed,  except 
1,  at  a  dis- 
,in  that  cir- 
One  morn- 
t  any  food, 
some.  W(> 
elling  only 
>,  But  the 
;heir  youns; 
md  discbar- 
ity  to  effect 
disunioTi  ot 

designs  ot 

had  some- 
compacth 
osp  and  ha- 
said  he. 
in  vour  own 
inndreds  ol 
Iv  about  us, 
1  vou  to  kill 
determinh 
ted,  and  n- 

!  cat's  head,) 

f,''  said  he, 

and  Crees. 

Ton  are  near 

lou.  whetbp'- 


^  ou  see  the  Sioux  now,  or  in  the  fall ;  but  we  liave  come  a  very 
Treat  distance  ;  we  bear  with  us,  as  we  have  long  borne,  tliose  that 
were  our  friends  and  children,  but  we  cannot  lay  them  down, 
except  we  come  into  the  camp  of  our  enemies.  You  know  11 
that  in  a  party  like  this,  large  as  it  even  now  is,  if  only  one  turns 
back,  'inother  and  another  will  follow,  until  n.>ne  are  left.  And 
it  i;  loi  this  reason  that  you  have  joined  us;  that  you  may  draw 
off  our  young  men,  and  thus  compel  us  to  return  without  having 
done  any  thing."  After  he  had  spoken,  Ta-bush-shah,  without 
making  any  answer,  rose,  an<l  turning  his  face  towards  his  own 
country,  departed  with  his  twenty  men.  A-gus-ko-gaut,  and  the 
principal  men  of  the  Muskegoes,  sat  silently  together,  and  saw 
one  after  another  of  their  own  young  men  get  up  and  follow  the 
Ojibbeways.  In  the  first  moments,  this  defection  of  Ta-bush- 
shah  seemed  to  arouse  some  indignation  in  the  breasts  of  some  of 
the  vfiung  Muskegoes,  for  they  imprudently  fi.-ed  upon  tlu;  rear 
of  the  retiring  Ojibbeways  ;  but  though  some  of  the  latter  turned 
to  nsent  this  treatment,  their  prudent  leader  repressed  their  ar- 
dour, and  by  so  doing,  gained  the  good  will  of  those  who  might 
so  readily  have  been  rendered  dangerous  enemies.  For  the  greater 
part  of  the  day  did  A-gus-ko-gaut,  and  the  few  that  remained 
firm  to  him,  continue  sitting  upon  the  ground,  in  the  same  spot 
where  he  had  listened  to  the  speech  of  Ta-bush-shah  ;  and  when 
at  last  he  saw  his  band  diminished  from  sixty  to  five,  the  old  man 
could  not  refrain  from  tears. 

Wa-me-gon-a-biew  had  joined  the  deserting  party,  and  at  that 
lime  1  had  removed  to  a  place  u  few  rods  distant  from  the  chief, 
where  I  remained  during  the  whole  time.  I  now  rejoined  the 
chief,  and  told  him,  if  he  was  willing  to  go  on  himself,  I  would 
aocompiiny  hint,  if  no  other  would.  The  other  three  men  who 
remained,  being  his  persomil  friends,  were  willing  to  have  gone 
on  if  he  had  wished  it ;  but  he  said  he  feared  we  could  do  very 
little,  being  so  few  in  number,  and  if  the  Sioux  should  discover 
us,  we  could  not  fail  to  be  cut  off.  So  the  excursion  was  aban- 
doned, and  every  man  sought  to  return  home  by  the  most  con- 
venient and  expeditious  way,  no  longer  paying  the  least  regard 
io  any  thing  except  his  own  sa^'ety  and  comfort.  I  soon  over- 
took Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  and  with  three  other  men,  we  formed  a 
)ii)rty  to  return  together.     We  chose,  in  om-  return,  a  route  ditfo- 


'/ 


V 

.4 

I    I 

'i      •  ll  I* 

\] '  :  ^ ' : 

■  ■  i    1 


iANNKn  S    NAKKATIVi;. 

rent  from  that  taken  by  mostuf  the  party.  Game  was  plenty, 
ami  we  did  not  suffer  from  hunger.  Early  one  morning,  1  was 
lying  wrapped  in  my  blanket  by  a  deep  buffaloe  path,  which  came 
down  through  a  prairie  to  the  little  creek  where  we  were  en- 
camped. It  was  now  late  in  the  fall,  and  the  thick  and  heavy 
grasses  of  these  prairies,  having  long  before  been  killed  by  the 
frosts,  had  become  perfectly  dry.  To  avoid  burning  the  gras«, 
we  had  kindled  our  little  lire  in  the  bottom  of  the  deep  path,  where 
it  passed  through  the  corner  of  the  bank.  Home  of  the  Indians  had 
got  up,  and  were  sitting  part  on  one  and  pari  on  the  other  side  of 
the  path,  preparing  something  for  breakliist,  when  our  attention 
was  called  to  some  un\istial  sound,  and  we  saw  a  porcupine  conio 
walking  slowly  md  slouchingly  down  the  path.  I  had  heard 
much  of  the  stupi(Hty  of  this  animal,  but  never  had  an  opportu- 
liity  to  witness  it  till  now.  On  he  came,  without  giving  any  at- 
tention to  surrounding  objects,  until  his  nose  was  actually  in  the 
fire ;  then  bracing  stiflly  back  with  his  fore  feet,  lie  stood  so  near 
that  the  flame,  when  driven  towards  him  by  the  wind,  still  singed 
the  hairs  on  his  face,  for  some  minutes,  st«  uidly  opei)'  g  and  shut- 
ting his  eyes.  At  leiigth  one  of  the  In-liui  s,  tired  of  looking  at 
him,  hit  him  a  blow  in  the  face  with  a  piece  of  moose  meat  lu 
had  on  a  little  stick  to  roast.  One  of  them  then  kflled  him  Avilh 
a  tomahawk,  ami  we  ate  some  of  the  meat,  which  was  very  good. 
The  Indians  then,  in  conversation  respecting  the  habits  of  this; 
animal,  related  to  me  what  I  have  since  seen,  namely  :  that  as  i\ 
porcupine  is  feeding  in  the  night,  along  the  bank  of  a  river,  a  man 
may  sometimes  take  up  s  'i/.e  of  his  food  on  the  blade  of  a  pad- 
dle, and  holding  it  to  his  nose,  he  will  eat  it  without  ever  per- 
ceiving the  presence  of  the  man.  When  taken,  they  can  neither 
bite  nor  scratch,  having  no  protection  or  defence  except  what  is 
yii'Ided  them  by  their  barbed  and  dangerous  spines.  Dogs  can 
rarely,  if  ever,  be  urged  to  attack  them  ;  when  they  do,  severe  in- 
jury anil  suileriiig,  if  not  death,  is  the  certain  consequence. 

Ill  four  days  after  we  started  to  return,  we  reached  Large  Wood 
Riv»;r,  which  heads  in  a  mountain,  and  running  a  long  distaiut) 
through  the  prairie,  and  ten  inili^s  under  ground,  empties  into 
Red  River.  Below  the  place  where  it  disappears  under  theprai- 
lie,  it  ia  called  by  another  name,  but  it  is  no  doiibt  the  same  river, 


^. 


^        Vi 


tanner's    NAKKA'l'IVE. 


iras  plenty, 
ling,  1  was 
ivhich  came 
e  were  en- 

and  heavy 
lied  by  the 
r  the  gras-, 
pativ,  wiiere 
Indians  had 
iher  side  ol' 
ur  attention 
•ujiine  come 

had  heard 
an  opportu- 
ving  any  at- 
tually  in  tin; 
tood  so  near 
,  still  singed 

^  and  shul- 
f  looking  at 
ose  meat  li( 
led  him  with 
IS  very  good, 
labits  of  this 
ly  :  that  as  a 
i  river,  a  man 
ide  ol"  a  pad- 
lit  ever  pcr- 
can  neither 

cept  what  is 
Dogs  can 
o,  severe  in- 

juence. 
arge  Wood 

ong  distaiUHi 
mpties  into 
ider  the  prai- 

le  same  river. 


Ken- 


Here  we  killed  one  of  the  common  red  deer,  like  those 
tucky,  though  this  kind  is  not  often  seen  in  the  north. 

"When  I  returned  to  my  family,  I  had  hut  seven  balls  left,  but 
as  there  was  no  trader  near,  [  could  not  at  present  get  any  more. 
With  those  seven  I  killed  twenty  moose  and  elk.  Often  times, 
in  shooting  an  elk  or  a  moose,  the  ball  does  not  pass  quite 
through,  and  may  bo  used  again. 

Late  in  the  fail,  I  went  to  the  Mouse  River  trading  house,  to 
get  some  goods,  and  there  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  determined  to  go 
and  live  by  himself,  but  Net-no-kwa  preferred  to  live  with  mc. 
Before  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  left  me,  we  met  at  the  Mouse  River 
trading  house  some  of  the  members  of  a  family  that  in  times 
long  past,  had  quarrelled  wit.i  ti\e  predecessors  of  Wa-mc-gon-a- 
biew.  They  were  part  of  a  ccnsiderable  band,  strangers  to  us, 
and  in  themselves  were  far  toj  powerful  for  us.  We  heard  of 
their  intention  to  kill  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  and  as  we  could  not 
avoid  being  thrown  more  or  less  into  their  power,  we  thought 
best  to  conciliate  their  t^ood  will,  or  at  least  purchase  their  for- 
bearance by  a  present.  We  had  two  kegs  of  whiskey,  which  wc 
gave  to  the  band,  preseiting  one  particularly  tp  the  head  of  the 
family  who  had  threatened  us.  When  they  began  to  drink,  I 
noticed  one  man,  who,  with  great  show  of  cordiality,  invited  Wa- 
aie-gon-a-biew  to  drink,  and  pretended  to  drink  with  him.  The 
more  elTectually  to  throw  my  brother  oil'  his  guard  ;  this  man,  in 
due  time,  began  to  act  like  a  drunken  man,  though  I  could  per- 
ceive he  was  perfectly  sober,  and  knew  that  he  had  drank  very 
little,  if  any  thing,  since  we  had  been  together.  I  had  no  diffi- 
culty to  comprehend  his  intentions,  and  determined,  if  possible, 
to  protect  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  from  the  mischief  intended  him. 
We  had,  with  the  hope  of  securing  the  friendship  of  the  family 
of  Crees,  made  our  fire  very  near  theirs,  and  as  I  found  Wa-me- 
gon-a-biew  becoming  too  drunk  to  have  much  discretion,  I  with- 
drew him  to  our  camp.  Here  I  had  scarce  laid  him  down,  and 
thrown  his  blanket  over  him,  when  I  found  myself  surrounded 
by  the  hostile  family,  with  their  guns  and  knives  in  their  hands, 
and  I  heard  them  speak  openly  of  killing  my  brother.  Fortu- 
nately our  present  of  spirits  had  nearly  overcome  the  senses  of 
all  except  the  man  I  have  before  mentioned,  and  I  regarded  him 
as  the  most  formidable  among  them.  As  two  of  them  approached, 


^f 


^ff^l^ 


\n'''\ 


'Mill  if-'  i 


\m 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVK. 


apparently  intending  to  stab  Wa-mc-gon-a-bicw,  I  stepped  be» 
t\v(!cn  and  prevented  them ;  they  then  seized  me  by  the  arms, 
whieh  I  allowed  them  to  hold  without  any  resistance  on  my  part, 
knowing  that  when  about  to  stab  me,  they  must  let  go  at  least 
with  one  hand  eacli,  and  intending  then  to  make  an  ellort  to 
escape  from  them.  I  grasped  firmly  in  my  right  hand,  and  at  the 
same  time  kept  hid  in  tlie  corner  of  my  blanket,  a  large  and 
strong  knife,  on  which  I  placed  great  reliance.  Very  soon  after 
they  had  seized  me,  the  Indian  on  my  left,  still  holding  my  left 
hand  by  his,  raised  his  knife  in  his  right  to  strike  me  in  the  ribs. 
His  companion,  who  was  somewhat  drunk,  having  felt  his  belt 
for  his  own  knife,  found  he  had  dropped  it,  and  calling  out  to  his 
companion  to  wait  until  he  could  find  his  knife,  that  he  might, 
lielp  to  kill  me,  quitted  my  riglit  hand  and  went  towards  the  fire, 
searching  for  it.  This  was  my  opportunity,  and  with  a  sudden 
sj)ring  I  disengaged  myself  from  the  one  who  still  held  my  left 
hand,  and  at  the  same  time  showing  him  a  glimpse  of  my  knife. 
I  was  now  free,  and  might  have  secured  my  own  safety  by  flight; 
but  was  determined  not  to  abandon  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  in  a  situ- 
ation where  I  knew,  for  me  to  leave  him,  would  be  certain  death. 
T^'c  Indians  seemed  for  a  moment  astonished  at  my  sudden  re- 
sistance and  escape,  and  not  less  so,  when  they  saw  me  catch  up 
the  body  of  my  drunken  companion,  and  at  two  or  three  leaps, 
place  him  in  a  canoe  on  the  beach.  I  lost  no  time  in  passing 
over  the  small  distance  between  their  camp  and  the  trading  house. 
Why  they  did  not  fire  upon  me,  before  I  was  out  of  the  light  of 
their  camp  lire,  I  cannot  tell ;  ])erhaps  they  were  somewhat  in- 
timidated at  seeing  me  so  well  armed,  so  active,  and  so  entirely 
sober ;  which  last  circiunstance,  gave  me  an  evident  advantage 
over  most  of  them. 

Shortly  after  this,  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  left  me,  acccording  to  his 
previous  determination,  and  I  went  to  live  by  myself,  at  a  place 
on  the  Assinneboin  River.  I  had  been  here  but  a  few  days,  when 
A-ke-wah-zains,  a  brother  of  Net-no-kwa,  came  to  stay  at  our 
lodge.  He  had  not  been  long  with  us,  when  we  one  day  disco- 
vered a  very  old  man,  in  a  small  wooden  canoe,  coming  up  the 
river.  A-ke-wah-zains  immediately  knew  him  to  be  the  father 
of  the  men  from  whom  I  had  so  lately  rescued  Wa-me-gon-a- 
biew.     The  old  man  came  promptly  to  the  shore  when  called, 


I    ' 


"fr*""^  r*~ 


XANKEn'H    NfARUATlVi;. 


i:ii 


eppcd  be« 
the  arms, 
II  my  part, 
go  at  least 
I  cHbrt  to 
,  and  at  the 

large  and 
soon  atter 
ing  my  left 
in  the  ribs. 
L'lt  his  belt 
iir  out  to  his 
t  he  might 
rds  the  tire, 
h  a  sudden 
leld  my  left 
(  my  knife, 
ty  by  flight; 
>w,  in  a  situ- 
ertain  death. 
T  sudden  rc- 
me  catch  up 
I  three  leaps, 

in   passing 
adiiig  house, 

the  light  of 
omewhat  in- 
I  so  entirely 
it  advantage 

ording  to  his 
f,  at  a  place 
/  days,  when 
stay  at  our 
le  day  disco- 
ming  up  the 
e  the  father 
^a-mc-gon-a- 
,vhen  callp<l. 


but  it  soon  appeared  that  he  was  ignorant  of  what  liac?  passed 
between  his  children  and  us.  A-ke-wah-zains,  as  he  related 
these  adiiirs  to  him,  became  excessively  enraged,  and  it  was  not 
without  (liHicuity  1  prevented  him  from  murdering  tlie  helpless 
old  man  <m  the  spot.  I  was  content  to  siillir  him  to  take  part 
of  the  rum  the  old  num  had  brought,  and  i  assisted  the  latter  to 
escape  immediately,  as  I  kiK'W  it  would  be  unsafe  for  him  to  re- 
jnain  aiiHuig  us,  after  his  liquor  had  begun  to  have  its  ellect. 

The  -ame  evening,  A-ke-wah-zains  asked  me  for  my  gnn, 
whicli  was  a  long,  heavy,  and  very  excellent  one,  in  exchange 
for  his,  which  was  short  and  light.  I  was  unwilling  to  exchange, 
though  I  did  not  as  yet  know  how  great  was  the  dis|)arity  be- 
tween the  two  pieces;  and  though  Net-no-kwa  was  unwilling  I 
should  ex(;hange,  I  did  not  know  how  to  refuse  the  man's  re- 
quest, such  a  thing  being  almost  unknown  among  the  Indians  of 
this  country. 

Shortly  after  this,  I  killed  an  old  she  bear,  which  was  perfect- 
ly white.  She  had  four  cubs,  one  white,  with  red  eyes,  and  rc(l 
nails,  like  herself;  one  red,  [brown  ?]  and  two  black.  In  size, 
and  other  respects,  she  was  the  same  as  the  common  black  bear, 
hut  she  had  nothing  black  about  her  except  the  skin  of  the 
lips.  The  fur  of  this  kind  is  very  fine,  but  not  so  highly  valued 
by  the  traders  as  the  red.  The  old  one  was  very  tame,  and  I 
killed  her  without  diflicully  ;  two  of  the  young  I  shot  in  the  hole, 
and  two  escaped  into  a  tree.  I  had  but  just  shot  them,  when 
there  came  along  three  men,  attracted,  probably,  by  the  sound 
of  my  gun.  As  these  men  were  very  hungry,  I  took  them  home 
with  me,  fed  them,  and  gave  each  of  them  a  piece  of  meat  to  car- 
ry home.  Next  day,  I  chased  another  bear  into  a  low  poplar 
tree,  when  I  became  convinced  of  the  W(.rthlessness  of  the  gun 
I  had  from  A-ke-wah-zaii\s,  for  I  shot  fifteen  times  without  kill- 
ing the  bear,  and  was  compelled,  at  last,  to  climb  into  the  tree 
and  put  the  muzTile  of  my  gun  close  to  his  head,  before  I  could 
kill  him.  A  few  days  afterwards,  as  I  was  hunting,  I  started,  at 
the  same  moment,  an  elk  and  three  young  bears,  the  latter  run- 
ning into  a  tree.  I  shot  at  the  young  oears,  and  two  of  them  fell ; 
as  I  thought  one  or  both  of  them  must  be  only  wounded,  I  sprang 
immediately  towards  the  root  of  the  tree,  but  had  scarce  reached 
it,  when  I  saw  the  old  she  bear  come  jumping  in  an  opposite  direc- 


■'-V>gpl 


18Ji 


'IANNKR's    NARHAIIM,. 


i 


tion.  Hlic  caught  up  the  cub  which  liad  fallen  nearest  her,  and 
raising  it  with  her  paw.s,  while  she  stood  on  her  hind  feet,  hold- 
ing  it  as  a  woman  holds  her  child ;  she  looked  at  it  for  a  mo- 
ment, smelled  the  ball  hole  which  was  in  its  belly,  and  perceiv- 
ing it  was  dead,  dashed  it  down,  and  came  directly  towards  me, 
gnashing  her  teeth,  and  walking  so  erect  that  her  head  stood  as 
high  as  mine.  All  this  was  so  sudden  that  1  had  scarce  re-loaded 
my  gun,  having  only  time  to  raise  it  when  she  came  within 
reach  of  the  muzzle.  I  was  now  made  to  feel  the  necessity  of  a 
lesson  the  Indians  had  taught  me,  and  which  I  very  rarely  neg- 
lected, namely,  after  discharging  my  gun,  to  think  of  nothing 
else  before  loading  it  a>;ain. 

In  about  a  month  that  I  remained  here,  I  killed,  notwitlistand- 
iiig  the  poorness  of  my  gun,  twenty-four  bears,  and  about  ten 
mo(»se.  JJaviiiir  now  a  great  deal  of  bear's  fat,  which  we  could 
not  eat,  I  visited  llie  suiijogwuii  I  had  made,  where  I  killed  the 
twenty  moose,  with  seven  balls,  and  put  the  fat  into  it.  At 
length,  when  provisions  became  very  scarce,  I  returned  with  my 
family  to  this  place,  expecting  to  live  until  s|)ring  on  the  meat 
I  had  saved;  but  I  found  that  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  with  his  own 
family,  and  several  others,  had  been  there,  broken  it  oj)eii,  and 
taken  away  every  pound  of  meat.  Being  thus  reduced  to  the 
apj)reliension  of  imn.ediate  starvation.  I  was  compelled  to  go  iu 
pursuit  of  buiValoe.  Forluiiatidy,  the  s»'verily  of  the  winter  now 
drove  these  animals  in  towards  the  woods,  and  in  a  very  few  day> 
I  killed  plenty  of  them.  I  was  now  joined  by  Wa-nie-gon-a-biew 
and  other  Indians.  We  were  encamped  at  a  little  grove  of  tree? 
in  the  prairie.  It  happened  one  night,  that  the  old  woman,  as 
well  as  several  others  of  our  family,  dreamed  of  a  bear  close  to 
our  lodge.  Next  morning  I  searched  for  him,  und  fountl  him  in 
his  hole.  I  shot  him,  and  waiting  a  moment  for  the  smoke  to 
clear  away,  as  I  saw  him  lying  at  the  bottom,  I  went  down  head 
foremost  to  ilraw  him  out.  As  my  body  portly  tilled  the  h(dc. 
and  excluded  the  light,  I  did  not  perceive  that  he  was  alive  until 
I  laid  my  hand  on  hiiM.  lie  then  turned  and  sprang  upon  inc. 
I  retreated  as  tisHt  as  I  could,  bnt  all  the  way  lie  was  snappintr 
his  teeth  so  near  me  that  I  felt  his  breath  warm  on  my  face.  Ilf 
might  have  seized  'iw  at  any  moment,  but  did  not.  I  caught  in\ 
gun  as  I  leaped  fr  nn  the  nioulh  of  the  den.  the  bear  pursuing  ine 


-     I 


'JANNKR  .S    \AKKATIVE. 


I.f3 


St  her,  and 
teet,  hold- 
lor  a  mo- 
[1(1  perceiv- 
jwards  me, 
id  stood  as 
e  re-loaded 
line  within 
•essity  of  a 
rarely  neg- 
ol'  nothing 

twithstand- 
d  about  ten 
h  we  could 
I  killed  the 
nto  it.     At 
0(1  with  my 
111  the  meat 
ith   his  own 
it  open,  and 
iuced  to  the 
ml  to  go  in 
winter  now 
ry  (ew  (lay> 
-goii-a-biew 
ove  of  trees 
woman,  as 
ear  rlose  to 
ouiid  him  in 
le  flmoke  to 
down  head 
1   the  hole. 
is  alive  until 
^  upon  me. 
as  snappintr 
y  fare.     Ilf 
I  rau}rht  ni\ 
pursuing  liif 


very  closely.  As  soon  as  I  ihouglit  1  had  gained  a  little  dis- 
tance, I  lired  behind  mc,  ami  JjrolxC  his  jaw,  and  soon  killed  him. 
At'terwanls  I  became  more  cautious  alxnil  going  down  into  bear's 
holes,  before  1  had  ascertained  that  the  animals  were  dead.  Late 
in  winter,  the  butlaloe  were  so  plenty  aixtut  us,  lliat  we  Uilled 
tliem  u'itli  bows,  and  caught  some  of  the  younger  ones  with 
nooses  of  leather. 

As  (be  sugar  season  came  on,  we  went  to  Pe-kau-kau-ne  Sah- 
ki-e-guii,   (Hul'iiloe   Hump  Lake,)  two   days"   journey  from   the 
head  of  Pemiiiuah  River,  to  hunt  beavers.     We  took  our  wives 
to  the  lumting  grounds,  but  left  old   Net-no-kwa,  with  the  chil- 
dren,   to   make  sugar,     it  was   now  our  object   to  kill  beaver 
enough  to  enable  us  to  purchase  each  a  nood  horse,  intent'ing  to 
accompany  the  war-party  against   the  Sioux,  the  ensuing  sum- 
mer.    In  ten  days  I  killed  forty-two  large  and  fine  beavers,  and 
Wa-nic-gon-a-biew  about  as  many.     With  these  we  rejiaired  to 
the  Mouse  River  trading-house,  to  buy  horses.      Mr.  M'Kie  hiul 
pnnnised  to  sell  me  a  very  large  and  beautiftd  horse  of  his,  which 
I  had  before  seen,  and  I  was  much  dissatistied  when  I  found  the 
horse  had  been  sold  to   the  North  West  Company.     I  tidd  him, 
since  the  horse  had  gone  to   the  north  west,   the  beavers  might 
go  there  also.     So  crossing  to   the  other  side,  I  bought  a  larwc 
gray  mare  for  thirty  beaver  skins.     This  was,  in  some  respects. 
as  good  a  horse  as  the  other,  but  it  did   not  please   me  as  well. 
Wa-uie-gon-a-biew  also   bought  a  horse   from  the   Indians,   and 
then  we  n'turned   to  (Jreat  Wood  River,  to  look  for  old  Net-no- 
kwa;  but  she  had  gone  to  Red  River,  whither  we  followed  her. 
As  we  rentained   for  s(une  time  at  tin-  mouth   of  the  .\ssiunc- 
boin,  many  Indians  gntheretl  iironnd  us,  and  among  others,  seve- 
ral of  my  wile's  relatives,  whom  1  harl  not  before  seen.      Among 
these  was   an  uncle,  who   was   a  cripple,  and    had  not  lor  years 
been   able   to   walk.     As  he  had  (miy  heard   (hat  I  «as  a   white 
man,  he  supposed  that  I  could  not  hunt.     When  he  saw  my  wife, 
he  said  to   her,  "  Well,    my  dansrhter,  I  bear  you    are   married  ; 
does  your  husband  ever  kill  any  game  ?"     '•  Yes,"  said  she,  **  if 
n  moose  or  an  elk  has  lost   his  road,  or  wants  to  die,  and  comes 
and  stands  in  his  path,  he  will  sometimes  kill  him."     "  lie  has 
gone  to  hunt  to-day,  has  he  not  ?     If  he  kills  any  thing  I  shall 
s:o  and  brim;  it  iu,  and  you  will  give  me  the  .skin  to  nuike  some 


Mil 


5n/ 


i  i* 


ill- 


I    f 


iu 


TAXNF.R'S   XARRATIVK. 


iQocrasins."  This  he  saul  in  derision,  but  I  gai'e  him  the  skiij 
of"  the  elk  I  killed  that  day,  to  make  hi.s  inorcasius,  and  ron- 
liniiiiijr  to  be  successful,  i  ^ave  frame  to  all  my  wife's  relatives, 
and  soon  heard  no  more  of  (heir  ridicule.  After  some  time,  the 
game  was  exhausted,  and  we  found  it  necessary  to  disperse  iu 
various  directions,  i  went  about  ten  miles  up  the  As'^iinuboin, 
wlure  we  foutui  two  lodges,  under  a  man  called  I*o-ko-tau-ga- 
maw,  ((he  li((le  pmid.)  'I'licse  people  were  rela(ives  of  my  wife. 
When  we  (irst  arrived,  the  wile  ol  I'o-ko-taw-iia-maw  happened 
to  be  cooking  a  moose's  tongue  (or  her  luisba(ul,  w  ho  had  not 
yet  returned  from  hunting.  'I'liis  she  gave  us  innnedia(ely,  and 
would,  perhaps,  have  farther  relieved  our  distress,  had  not  (Ik; 
man  then  arrived.  After  this,  they  gave  us  nothing,  tliough  (nir 
little  children  were  crying  for  hunger,  and  they  had  plenty  of 
meat  about  their  lodge.  It  was  now  too  late,  and  1  too  much 
iadgucd  (o  <ro  a  huudng  (hat  evening ;  neverllieless,  I  would  m)l 
suller  the  women  to  buy  meat  fnnn  (hem,  as  they  wished  to  do. 
A(  (he  earliest  appearance  of  dawn,  o\\  (he  ensuing  morning,  1 
tcxdv  my  gun.  and  s{anding  a(  (he  door  of  my  lodge,  I  said  piu- 
j)osely  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Can  [U)ne  bu(  Po-ko-taw-i>a-maw  kill 
elks  ?"  .'My  w  ife  canu-  out  of  my  hidge,  and  hanihd  nu  a  piece 
of  dried  nieat,  abouf  as  large  as  my  hand,  which  she  said  her  sis- 
ter had  s(olen  to  give  to  her.  Ky  this  (ime,  manyof  the  people  had 
come  out  of  the  lodges,  and  I  threw  the  piece  of  meat  from  uu'. 
a(nontr  the  dou-;,  saying,  "Sliall  such  food  as  this  be  ollired  tn 
my  children,  when  there  are  plenty  of  elks  in  (he  woods.'"  He- 
lore  noim  I  had  killed  two  fat  elks,  and  re(ui'ne(i  to  my  lodgt 
with  a  heavy  load  ol  meat.  1  soon  killed  great  nmnbers  of  bulla- 
Iocs,  and  we  dispersed  mirselves  about  to  n;  ike  dry  meat,  |irepa- 
tory  to  leaving  (Uir  lamilics  to  go  on  tlie  |)roposed  war-|»arty.  We 
then  rettiriu'd  to  (he  woods,  to  select  scnne  nood  elk  and  moose 
skit(>,  for  moccasins.  The  skins  of  animals  living  in  (he  op<'u 
pruiries  are  teiitler,  and  do  not  nuike  good  lea(her. 

As  we  were  one  day  travellitig  thnnigh  (he  prairie,  wt  looked 
back,  and  saw  a(  a  distance  a  nuin  loaded  with  baggage,  and 
having  two  of  the  large  'ra-wa-e-gim-num,  or  drums  used  in  the 
ceremonies  of  the  Waw-be-no.  W»'  looked  to  our  yointjj  wiMneii 
fur  an  explanaticm,  as  we  soon  recognised  the  approaching  (ru- 
veller  to  he  no  oth«'v  than  I'ich-e.-to,  one  ol'  the.  hHiid  of  inhuspi- 


vV 


\- 


rANN'KU's    N'AKR*TtVr. 


13S 


the  skill 
111(1   con- 
relatives, 
timi",  the 
spcvse  iij 
iiiiu'li'iin, 
.o-tiiw-sii- 
r  111)  wife, 
liappi'iied 
u)  had  not 
aicly,  and 
ad  ii(»l  the 
hmiirli  our 
I  ph'iiiy  ol' 
too  much 
would  not 
slu'd  to  do. 
iiioniiiii:.  I 
I  said  piir- 
)ii-nia\\  kill 
iiu'  a  piece 
^aid  litr  sis- 
X  opie  had 
Iroiii  me. 
(tlleied  to 
r     Be 
my  lodut 
^oritutlii- 
(•;it,  pvepa- 
iiirly.    NVe 
and  moose 
n  llie  op«'U 

we  looked 
rirage,  inid 
used  in  ihe 
iiii;  women 
laeiiinn  lia- 
t  inhoMpi- 


tablc  relatives  we  Iiad  lately  left.  The  face  of  Skwaw-shish, 
the  Bow-we-tig  girl,  lietra  ed  the  consciousness  of  some  know- 
ledge respecting  the  motives  of  Pich-e-to. 

At  this  time,  the  Waw-be-no  was  fasliionahle  among  the  Ojib- 
bewavs,  but  it  has  ever  been  considered  iiy  the  older  and  more 
respectalile  men,  as  a  false  and  daiigrrous  religion.     The  cere- 
monies of  the   Waw-be-no  dillir  very  essentially  from  those  of 
the  Melai,  and  are  n-uallv  accompaiiieil    by  much  licentiousness 
and   irregularity.     The  Ta-wa-e-irim   used   for  a   drum   in   this 
dance,  dilli-rs   from    the   VVoin   Ali-ki^ek,   or  Me-ti-kwaw-keek, 
u.sed  in  the  Me-tai,  it  being  made  of  a  hoop  of  bent  wood,  like  a 
soldier's  drum,  while  (he  latter  is  a  portion  of  the  trunk  of  a  tree, 
hollowed  by  fire,  and    having   the   skin  tied   over  it.     The  Slie- 
zhe-gwun,  or  rattlt<.  dilfers,  also,   in  its  constriiclion   from   that 
used  in  the  Metai.     In  the  VVaw-lie-no,  men  and  women  dance 
and  sing  together,  and  there  is  much  juggling  and  playing  with 
fire.     The  initiated  take  coals   of  lire,  and  red   liot  stones,  in 
their  hands,  and   sometimes  in   their  mouths.     So.netimes  ihey 
put  powder  on  the  insides  of  iheir  hands,  (irst  moistening  them, 
to  make  it  stick ;  then  by  ruldiiiiij  them  on   coals,  or  a  red  hot 
stone,  they  inaki;  the  powder  burn.     Somelimes  ime  of  the  prin- 
cipal   performers  at  a  V\'aw-b(>-no,    ha^,  a  kettle  brouj;lit  and  set 
down   befiu'e  him,    whicii  is  taken  boiling  from  the  lire,  and  be- 
fore it  has  lime  to  cool,  he  plunges  his  hands  to  the  botloin,  and 
brings  up  the  head  of  the  dog,  or  whatever  other  animal  it  may 
be  which  had  bi'en   juirposely  jiut  there.     He  then,  while  it  re- 
mains  hot,  tears  off  the  (lesh    with    his   teeth,  at   llir  same  time. 
singing  and  dancing   madly  about.      After   devouring  the    meat, 
he  dashes   down  the  bone,  still  dancing  and  capering  as  before. 
They  are  able  to  withstand  the  (fleets  of  fire  and  of  heated  sub- 
stances, by  what  they  would  persuade  (he  iiiiioraiil  to  be  a  super- 
natural power;  but    this   is  nothing  else  than  a  certain  prepara- 
tion, ellected  by  iIh-  application  of  heriis,   which  maki-  the  parts 
to  which  they  are  apjdied,   insensible  to  tire.     The   plants  they 
use  are  the  Wa-be-no-wusk,  and    I'e-zhe-ke-wusk  ;  the  fmnier 
grows  in  abundance  on  the   island   of  Mackinac,  and  is   called 
yarrow  by  the  jieople  of  the    United  Stales  ;  (he  oilier  grows 
only  in  the  prairies.     These   ihey  mix  and   bruise,  or  chew  to- 
gether, and  rub  over  their  huiids  and  anus.     The   Waw-he-no- 


.'• 


;.^?=-'|M"MM 


\ 


136 


tanker's   NARKATIVL. 


1         ' 

■      4 

1 

t: 

■      '1 

i. 

Jl 


Wiisk,  or  yarrow,  in  the  form  of  a  poultice,  is  an  excellent  reme- 
dy for  burns,  and  is  much  used  by  the  Indians ;  but  the  two, 
when  mixed  together,  seem  to  give  to  the  skin,  even  of  the  lips 
and  tongue,  an  astonishing  power  of  resisting  the  effects  of  fire, 
Pich-e-to,  with  his  two  Ta-wa-e-guns,  at  length  came  up,  and 
stopped  with  us.     Old   Net-no-kwa  was  not  backward  about  in- 
quiring his  business,  and  when  she  found  that  his  designs  extend- 
ed no  farther  than  to  the  Bow-we-tig  girl,  she  gave  her  consent 
to   the  match,  and   inarrieil  tiieni   immediately.     Next  morning, 
Waw-be-be-nais-sa,  who,  as  well  as  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  had  come 
with  me  from  the  mouth  of  the  Assinneboin,  killed  a  buck  elk, 
and  I  a  moose.     I  now  made  a  change  in  my  manner  of  hunting, 
which  contributed  much  towards  the  skill  I  finally  acijuired.     I 
resolved  that  I  would,  whenever  it  was  possible,  eve      at  the 
expense  of  the  greatest  exertions,  get  every  animal  I  should  shoot 
at.     When  I  came  to  look  upon  it  as  necessary  that  I  should  kill 
every  animal  I  shot  at,  I  became  more  cautious  in  my  approaches, 
and  more  careful  never  to  fire  until  my  prospect  of  being  able  to 
kill  was  good.     I  made  this  resolutitni  in  the  spring,  and  hunted 
much,  and   killed  many  animals  during  the  summer ;  I   missed 
only  two  that  I  fired  at.     It  recptires  much  skill,  and  great  cau- 
tion, to  be  able  to  kill  moose  at  all,  particularly  in  summer.     Ah 
I  began  to  be  considered  a  good  hunter,  Waw-be-be-nais-sa  be- 
came envious  of  my  success,  and  often,  when  I  was  absent,  he 
went  slily  into  my  lodge,  and  bent  my  gun,   or  borrowed  it  un 
der  pretence  of  his  own   being  out  of  repair,  and  returned  it  tt» 
me  bent,  or  otherwise  iftjureil. 

Very  early  in  the  spring,  we  had  niiu-h  severe  thunder  and 
lightning.  One  night,  Pich-e-to  becoming  much  alarmed  at  thr 
violence  of  the  storm,  got  up  and  offered  some  tobacco  to  thr 
thunder,  intreating  it  to  stop.  The  Ojibbeways  and  Ottawwaws 
believe  that  thunder  is  the  v«iice  of  living  beings,  which  they 
call  An-nim-me-keeg.*  Some  considering  them  to  be  like  men, 
while  others  say  they  have  more  resend)lance  to  birds.  It  is 
doubtful  whether  they  are  aware  of  any  necessary  connexion 
between  the  thunder  and  the  lightning  which  precedes  it.    They 

♦  An-iiim-tiic-kirff  tms-rc-tali  goo<i-e-viik\  (Ottawwaw,)  it  lliunders. — Xi- 
■mah-kc-wuk  kuu-kc-lo-ituk,  (Mpnoiiiiiif,)  it  tliumliTf.— They  are  butb,  howevrr, 
4'luriil  nonunttion-*,  and  have  vcrlw  in  the  plural. 


-A-, 


lent  reme- 
It  the  two, 
af  the  lips 
cts  of  fire, 
ne  wp,  and 
I  about  in- 
rns  extend- 
ler  consent 
:t  morning, 
J,  had  come 
1  buck  elk, 
of  hunting, 
c(iuired.     I 
ve     at  the 
hould  shoot 
[  should  kill 
approaches, 
eing  able  to 
and  huntetl 
r ;  I  missed 
d  great  cau- 
nmmer.     As 
e-nais-sa  be- 
s  absent,  he 
rowed  it  un 
eturned  it  ti> 

tliunder  and 

armed  at  the 

)bacco  to  thf 

Ottawwaw~ 

which  they 

be  like  null, 

birds.     It  i^ 

ry  connexion 

es  it.    They 

itiunders.— .Vi- 
;  butb,  howevrr. 


JANMJKS     NAKRATIV);. 

think  the  lightning  is  fire,  and  many  of  them  w  ill  assert,  that  by 
-earching  in  the  ground,  at  the  root  of  the  tree  lliat  has  been 
struck,  inime<liately  after  the  flasli,  a  ball  of  fire  may  be  found. 
I  have  myself  many  times  sought  for  this  ball,  but  could  never  find 
it.  I  have  traced  the  path  of  the  lightning  along  the  wood,  al- 
most to  the  end  of  some  large  root,  but  where  it  disappeared  I 
was  never  able  to  find  any  thing  more  in  the  soil  than  what  be- 
longed there.  After  the  storm  which  I  first  mentioned,  we  found 
in  the  morning  an  (dm  tree  still  burning,  which  had  been  set  on 
lire  by  the  lightning.  The  Indians  have  a  superstitious  dread 
of  this  fire,  and  none  of  them  would  go  to  bring  some  of  it,  to 
replace  our^,  which  had  been  extinguished  by  the  rain.  I  at 
last  went  and  brought  some  of  it,  though  not  without  apprehen- 
sion. I  had  fewer  fears  than  the  Indians,  but  I  was  not  entirely 
free  from  the  same  unfounded  apprehensions  which  so  constant- 
ly pursue  them. 

After  we  had  killed  and  dried  large  quantities  of  meat,  we 
erected  a  sunjegwun,  or  a  scaffold,  where  we  deposited  as  much 
as  we  thought  would  supply  the  Vi  ants  of  our  wcjmen  in  our  ab- 
sence. Befitre  we  had  entirely  finished  the  preparations  for  our 
journey,  we  were  fallen  upon  by  a  war-party  of  about  two  hun- 
dred Hioux,  and  some  of  our  people  killed.  A  small  party  of 
Assinneboins  and  Crees  had  already  gone  out  towards  the  Sioux 
country,  and  falling,  by  accidc^nt,  on  the  trace  of  this  war-party 
of  two  hundred,  had  dogged  them  for  some  time,  coming  re- 
peatedly near  enough  to  see  the  craiu''s  head,  used  by  their  chief 
instead  of  stones,  in  the  Ko-sau-bun-zitch-e-gun,  or  nightly  divi- 
nation, to  discover  the  position  of  the  enemy.  This  little  band 
of  Crees  and  Assinneboins,  had  not  courage  enough  to  fall  upon 
the  Sioux,  but  they  sent  messengers  to  the  Ojibbeways,  by  a  cir- 
cuitous route.  These  came  to  the  lodge  of  the  principal  chief 
of  the  Ojibbeways,  who  was  hunting  in  advance  of  his  peo|)le  ; 
but  this  man  scorned  to  betray  fear.  By  retreating  immediatelv 
to  the  trader's  fort,  he  might  have  escupeil  the  threatening  dan- 
ger. He  made  his  preparations  to  move,  but  his  old  wife,  being 
jealous  of  the  younger  one,  which  was  now  in  higher  favour 
than  herself,  reproached  him,  and  complained  that  he  had  given 
more  to  the  young  woman  than  to  her.  He  said  to  her,  "You  . 
have  for  a  K)n<r  time  annoyed  me  wi»h  vour  jealousy,  and  your 


K-^-4»V>>0» 


m^rV 


138 


FANXKR  .s    NAKRATIVF.. 


lit' 


m\ 


ft 


complaints  ;  but  1  shall  lioiir  no  more  of  it.  The  Sioux  are  near, 
and  I  shall  wait  for  thcin."  Ih-  accortlingly  remained,  and  con- 
tinned  hunting.  Early  one  morning,  he  went  up  into  an  oak 
tree  that  stood  near  his  lodge,  to  look  out  over  the  prairie  for 
buffaloe,  anc'  in  descending  he  was  shot  from  below  by  twu 
young  men  of  the  Sioux,  that  had  been  concealed  there  grcai 
part  of  the  night.  It  is  ])robiilile  they  would  have  fallen  upon 
him  sooner,  but  for  fear.  Now  the  trampling  of  horses  wa-; 
heard,  and  the  men  who  were  with  the  chief  had  scarc(!  time  Id 
run  out  of  the  lodjre,  when  the  two  hundred  Sioux,  on  thci; 
Jiorses,  were  at  the  door.  One  of  the  two  runners  who  had 
come  forward,  and  had  been  concealed  in  the  hazle  bushes,  was 
an  uncle  of  Wah-ne-taw,*  at  present  a  w  ell  known  chief  of  iht 
Yanktongs,  and  the  party  was  led  by  his  father.  Wah-ne-tau 
himself  was  of  the  party,  but  was  then  less  distinguished  than  Ik 
lias  since  become.  The  fight  continued  during  the  day  ;  all  tli( 
Ojibbeways,  about  twenty  in  number,  being  killed,  except  .\is 
ainse,  (the  little  clam,)  a  brolber  of  tiu^  chief,  two  women,  and 
one  child. 

Mr.  H.,  the  trader  at  l*end)inah,  gave  the  Ojibbeways  a  tci 
jjallon  keg  of  powder,  and  one  hundred  pounds  of  balls,  to  pur 
sue  after  the  party  that  had  killed  the  chief,  his  father-in-law. 
Of  the  four  hundred  men  that  started,  one  hundred  were  Assii, 
jieboins,  the  remaining  three  lun^dred  Crees  and  Ojibbeways, 
with  some  Muskegoes.  In  the  course  of  the  tirst  day  after  we  lefi 
Pembinah,  about  one  hundred  Ojibbeways  deserted  and  went 
back.  In  the  ibllowing  night,  the  Assinneboins  left  in  conside- 
rable numbers,  having  stolen  many  horses,  and,  among  other>. 
four  belonging  to  nu'  and  W'a-mc-gon-a-biew.  I  had  taken  Init 
seven  pairs  of  moccasins,  having  intended  to  make  the  whole 
journey  on  horse  back,  and  it  was  now  a  great  misfortune  for 
me  to  lose  my  horses.  I  went  to  Pe-shau-ba,  who  was  chief  oi 
the  band  of  Ott(twwaws,  to  which  I  belonged,  and  told  him  that 
I  wished  to  make  reprisals  from  the  (vw  Assinneboins  still  br- 
longing  to   our   party;  but  he  would  not  consent,  saying,  veiy 

♦  The  nanip  of  this  di8linguiKli<Ml  t-liicf  is  t^ix-ll  in  "  Major  Long's  Seronil  ES' 
pfHlilion,"  \{'a-no-tan.  To  an  Knjrlish  roadrr,  this  orthography  conveys  as  iiicm- 
rflct  an  idfa  of  tho  Kound  of  his  naine,  lU!  the  engraved  portrait  in  that  work,  doe? 
of  his  haiitlRomo  face  and  j)cn?cm. 


\ 


■.A- .. 


I'ANNKK  W    N'AHHATIVK. 


IJi) 


IX  are  near, 
.'(1,  and  ton- 
into  an  oak 
e  prairie  for 
low  by  two 
I  there  grcai 
fallen  upon 
horses  was 
:arce  time  Id 
iix,  on  the!, 
■rs  who  had 
!  bushes,  was 
chief  of  lilt 
Wah-ne-taw 
shed  than  in 
day  ;  all  tin 
,  except  Ais 
women,  and 

beways  a  Ici: 
balls,  to  pur 
father-in-law. 

were  Assin- 

Ojibbeways, 
y  after  we  let; 
Led  and  went 
ft  in  eonsidc- 
niong  others, 
ad  taken  Init 
ke  the  whok 
nisfortune  for 
)  was  chief  ot 

told  him  that 
loins   still  be- 

saying,  ver)' 

mg'H  Sprond  Ex 
convoys  as  iiicoi- 
n  tiiat  work,  doe? 


justly,  that  the  dissension  growing- out  of  such  a  nuasiirc,  on  my 
jjurt,  might  lead  to  tjuairels,  which  woidd  entirely  interrupt  and 
frustrate  the  designs  of  the  whole  party.  His  advice,  though  I 
knew  it  to  be  good,  as  far  as  the  interest  of  tlie  whole  was  con- 
cerned, did  notliing  to  remove  my  private  grievances,  and  I  went 
Innn  one  to  another  of  the  Ottawwaws,  and  those  whom  I  con- 
.-idered  my  friends  amono-  the  Djibbeways,  and  «'ndeavoured  to 
persuade  them  to  join  me  in  taking  horses  from  the  Assinneboins. 
None  would  consent,  but  a  young  man  called  (jish-kau-ko,  a 
lelative  of  him  by  whom  I  was  taken  jji-isoner.  He  agreed  to 
watch  with  me  liie  thirteen  Assinnei)oins  remaining  with  our 
parly,  and,  if  an  opportunity  offered,  to  assist  in  taking  horses 
from  them.  Soon  after,  f  saw  eight  of  tliese  men  lingering  in 
the  encampment  one  morning,  and  I  believed  it  was  their  Miten- 
tion  to  turn  back.  I  called  (Jisli-kan-ko  to  watch  them  with  me. 
and  when  most  of  th(^  Ojibbeways  had  left  the  camp,  we  sau 
rlu  ni  ifi't  on  their  hor'\s,  and  tmii  their  faces  towards  home. 
We  followed  after  them,  though  they  were  well  armed.  As  \\c 
knew  we  could  not  lake  their  horse-;  by  violence,  we  tlirew  down 
our  arms  in  our  camp,  and  followed  them  with  nothing  in  our 
bands.  One  of  them  stojipcnl  sonte  distance  in  the  rear  of  the 
retiring  party,  and  dismounted,  to  hold  a  parley  with  us  ;  but. 
tiiey  were  too  wary  and  cautious  to  give  us  any  opportunity  of 
taking  their  horses.  We  tried  entreaties,  and  at  last,  as  I  saw 
there  was  no  hope,  I  t<dd  them  their  five  companions  that  were 
left  in  our  camp,  woidit  not  be  safe  among  us;  but  this,  instead 
of  ha\ing  any  good  effect,  oidy  induced  them  t((  send  a  messen- 
ger on  their  swiftest  horse,  to  warn  thos«'  men  to  beware  of  me. 
We  returned  to  the  main  party  on  foot,  and  took  the  first  op- 
portunity to  visit  the  cani[»  of  the  live  remaining  Assinneboins  ; 
but  they  were  notified  of  our  approach,  and  fled  with  their 
horses.  At  a  lake  near  Red  Kiver,  we  found  hanging  on  a  tree 
in  the  woods,  the  body  of  a  yoimg  Sioux,  called  the  Ked  Tlum- 
der.  We  wi-re  now  on  the  path  of  the  retiring  war-party, 
which  had  killed  our  chief,  and  to  which  this  young  man  had  be- 
longed. The  Ojibbeways  threw  down  the  body,  bent,  kicked, 
and  scalped  it.  IV-shau-ba  forl)ade  me  and  the  other  young 
men  of  his  party,  to  join  the  Ojibbeways  in  these  unnianly  out- 
rag.  «.     Not  far  from  this  place  we   fotmd  a  prisoner's  pole. 


I4(» 


■1ANM.R 


NAKKAII^K. 


I."     1  '    i 


I  ■ 


ft 


■ir' 


I 


where  thoy  had  danrcd  some  prisoners,  whicli  first  convinced  up 
that  some  of  onr  friends  had  been  taken  alive.  The  trail  of  the 
party  was  still  recent,  and  we  thought  ourselves  but  two  or  three 
days  behind  them. 

At  Lake  Traverse,  our  number  had  (^iminished  to  one  hundred 
and  twenty ;  of  these,  three  men  were  half  breed  Assinneboins, 
about  twenty  Crees,  and  as  many  Ottawwaws,  the  rest  ()jil)be- 
ways.  Many  of  the  party  had  been  discouraged  by  unfavou.a- 
ble  divinations;  among  others,  one  by  Pe-shau-ba,  the  Oltaw- 
waw  chief,  made  on  the  first  night  after  we  left  Pendiinah.  He 
told  us,  that  in  his  dreuni  he  saw  the  eyes  of  the  .Sioux,  like  the 
sun ;  they  saw  every  where,  and  always  discovered  the  Ojibbc- 
Tvays  before  the  latter  came  near  enough  to  strike  them ;  also, 
that  he  had  seen  all  our  party  returning,  unharmed,  and  without 
scalps  ;  but  he  said,  that  on  the  left  hand  side  of  Lake  Traverse, 
opposite  our  road,  he  saw  two  lodges  of  .Sioux  by  themselves, 
which  he  intended  to  visit  on  his  return. 

Due  Avest  from  Iiake  Traverse,  and  at  the  distance  of  tAVu 
days'  travel,  is  a  mountain,  caller!  O-ge-mah-wud-ju,  (chief  moun- 
tai?i,)  and  near  this  is  the  village  to  which  ilu;  party  we  were 
pursuing  belonged.  As  we  approached  tliis  mountain,  we  moved 
in  a  more  cautious  and  guarded  manner,  most  coiinnonly  lyin^ 
hid  in  the  woods  during  the  day,  and  travelling  at  night.  When 
at  last  we  were  within  a  few  miles,  we  halted  in  the  middle  of 
the  night,  and  waited  for  the  approach  of  the  earliest  dawn,  the 
time  the  Indians  commonly  choose  for  an  attack.  Late  in  the 
night,  a  warrior  of  high  reputation,  called  the  Black  Puck,  took 
the  reins  of  his  horse's  bridle  in  his  hand,  and  walked  on  towards 
the  village,  allowing  me  to  accompany  liim.  We  arrived  at 
early  dawn,  at  the  little  hill  which  sheltered  our  approach  from 
the  village.  Raisinj/  his  head  cautiously,  the  Black  Duck  saw 
two  men  walking  at  some  distance  before  him.  He  then  de- 
scended the  hill  a  little,  and  tossing  his  blanket  in  a  peculiar 
manner,  made  a  signal  to  the  Ojibbeways  to  rush  on.  Then  fol- 
lowed tearing  off  of  leggins,  stripping  off  of  blankets,  and  in  an 
instant  the  whole  band  leaped  naked  to  the  feet  of  the  Black 
Duck;  and  now  they  moved  silently,  but  swiftly,  over  the  crest 
of  the  hill,  and  stood  upon  the  site  of  the  village.  The  two  men. 
whpn  they  discovered  the  war-party,  instead  of  liying,  came  de- 


I! 


V 


TANNKR's    NARRATH'l 


141 


invinced  ue 
trail  of  the 
ivo  or  three 

ne  hundred 
siiineboins, 
est  Ojihbe- 
unfavouia- 
ihe  Ollaw- 
binah.  He 
iix,  like  the 
the  Ojibbe- 
them ;  also, 
and  without 
e  Traverse, 
themselves, 

nice  of  twu 
chief  moiin 
rty  we  wen 
1,  we  nu)ved 
monly  lyino 
rht.     When 
e  middle  ol 
St  dawn,  the 
ate   in   th< 
~)uck,  tooK 
on  toward^ 
arrived  at 
)roach  from 
Duck  saw 
e  then  de- 
a  jieculiar 
Then  fol- 
and  in  an 
the  Black 
r  the  rresl 
le  two  men. 
.  came  de- 


liberately towards  them,  and  presently  stood  before  the  leaders — 
two  of  the  youn^  men  of  their  own  band.  They  had  left  the 
party  when  they  halted,  and,  without  «riviiiof  notice  of  their  in- 
tention, <rone  forward  to  reconnoitre  wlial  they  supposed  to  be 
the  position  of  the  enemy;  but  they  tomul  the  camp  had  been 
deserted  many  hours  bH'ore,  and  when  the  paily  cuine  up  they 
were  wallvinj^  about,  an''  carinji  away  tlie  wolve-^  (roni  among 
the  rul)bisli.  The  Sjis-sah-kwi,  (m-  war  whoop,  was  raised  by 
the  whole  !)and,  as  they  rushed  up.  'I'his  loud  and  jnercino- 
shout  intimidates  and  overcomes  the  weak,  or  those  who  are  sur- 
prised without  arm.5  in  their  hands,  while  it  r.iuses  the  spirit  of 
such  as  are  prepared  fv)r  battle,  [t  has  also,  as  I  have  seen  in 
many  instances,  a  surprisiiicr  etl'ect  iij)on  animals.  I  have  seen  a 
buiialoe  so  frii|;hteneil  I)y  it  as  to  fall  down  in  his  steps,  beini! 
able  neither  to  run,  nor  to  make  resistaiu'e ;  and  a  bear,  at  hear 
ing  il,  is  sometimes  so  terrcn'-stricken,  as  to  (piit  his  hold,  and 
fall  from  the  tree  in  utter  helplessness.  Tlie  chiefs  whom  wo 
Ibllowed,  were  m)t  willinji  to  reliiKjuish  the  objects  of  the  jour- 
ney, and  we  still  followed,  from  day  to  day,  alonir  the  recent 
trail  of  the  Sioux.  We  found,  at  each  of  their  encampments,  the 
j)lace  of  their  ko-sau-bun-zitch-e-irun,  from  the  appearance  ol 
which  we  were  able  to  infer,  that  they  knew  accurately  our  po- 
sition, from  day  to  day.  There  was  now  maidfesl  amonj^  the 
)'^oun)r  men  of  our  party,  a  previiiiinir  disposition  to  desert.  This 
the  chiefs  laboured  to  prevent,  by  appointing  certain  person;^, 
whom  they  could  trust,  to  act  as  sentiind-^,  both  in  the  encamp- 
ments and  during  ilio  marches ;  but  this  measuns  thouirh  often 
tried,  is  always  so  far  from  being  elleciual,  that  it  seems  greatly 
to  increase  the  number  of  desertions,  |)erhaps  because  the  young 
men  despise  the  idea  of  restraint  of  any  kind.  They,  on  this  oc- 
casion, became  more  and  more  restless  and  trovd)lesome,  after 
we  had  crossed  over  to  the  head  of  the  river  St.  Peters,  in  pur- 
suit of  the  Sioux.  The  traders  have  a  fort  somewhere  on  the 
upper  part  of  this  river,  to  which  the  Sioux  had  (led.  When  we 
arrived  within  a  day's  march  of  this  [dace,  fear  and  hesitancy  be- 
came manifest  nearly  throughout  the  band.  The  chiefs  talked 
of  sending  youmr  men  forward  to  examine  the  position  ol  the 
enemy  ;  but  uo  young  men  oflered  themselves  for  the  under- 
taking. 


i.    li 


/      .;^v 


i  <f'.. 


(.*■     - 


<       T 


'  ri  u 


w 


i'Wr-Kk 


]4» 


TANNER  S   NARRATIVr. 


We  remained  some  time  stationary,  and  the  opportxmity  was 
taken  to  supply  the  wants  of  some  who  were  delicienl  in  niocca- 
sinti,  or  other  important  articles.  Any  man  who  is  on  a  war  party, 
and  whose  supply  ol  mocciisiiis,  or  o!'  powder  and  ball,  or  any 
other  common  and  necessary  article,  has  failed,  takes  a  little  of 
what  he  stands  in  need,  and  if  it  he  moccasins,,  he  takes  a  single 
moccasin  in  his  hand,  and  walks  about  the  encampment,  pausing 
a  moment  before  such  of  his  companions  as  he  hopes  will  supply 
his  demand.  He  has  no  occasion  to  say  any  thing,  as  those  who 
happen  to  have  plenty  of  the  article  he  wants,  are  conunonly 
ready  to  furnish  him.  Should  this  method  fail,  the  chief  of  the 
party  goes  from  one  man  to  another,  aiui  from  those  who  have 
the  greatest  cpuintity,  he  takes  as  much  as  may  be  necessary,  of 
the  article  re(]uiied.  He  is,  on  these  occasions,  dressed  as  for 
battle,  and  accompanied  by  two  or  three  young  warriors. 

After  a  delay  of  two  days,  on  that  part  of  our  path  nearest  tho 
Sioux  trader's  fort,  we  all  turned  back  :  but  not  entirely  relin- 
quishing the  objfct  of  our  journey,  we  returned  to  the  vicini'y  of 
the  village  at  the  Chief  Mountain,  hoping  we  might  hnd  some  of 
our  enemies  there.  We  had  many  horses,  and  the  young  men 
rode  so  recklessly  and  noisily  about,  that  there  was  no  chance  of 
coming  near  them.  After  leaving  I'hief  Mountain,  and  proceed- 
ing some  distance  into  the  plain,  in  oin*  way  t  wards  home,  wc 
found  we  were  fidlowed  by  a  party  of  about  one  hundred  Sioux. 

At  the  (iaunenoway,  a  considerable  river  which  heads  in  the 
Chief  Mountain,  and  runs  into  Red  Fiiver,  several  days'  journej' 
from  Lake  Traverse,  Pe-shau-ba  (|uarrell('d  with  an  Ojibl)ewa\ 
called  Ma-nien-o-guaw-sink,on  account  of  a  horse  I  had  taken  from 
some  Crees  who  were  the  frieiuis  of  the  Assinneboins,  l)y  whom 
I  had  long  before  been  robbed  of  mine.  This  man  having  killed 
a  Cree,  was  now  anxious  to  do  something  to  gain  friends  among 
that  people.  It  happened  that  Pe-shati-l)a  and  myself  were  tra- 
velling together,  at  a  little  distance  from  the  main  body,  and  I  was 
leading  the  horse  I  had  taken,  when  Ma-nie-no-guaw-sink  came 
uj)  to  us,  accompanied  b\  a  few  friends,  and  demanded  the  h(»rse. 
Pe-shau-ba,  cockiuiJ  his  gun,  placed  the  muzzle  of  it  to  his  heart, 
and  so  intimidated  him  by  threats  and  reproaches,  that  he  de- 
sisted. The  Ottawwaws,  to  the  number  of  fen,  now  stopped,  Pc- 
shau-ba  remaining  at  their  head,  and  fell  in  the  rear  of  the  main 


tanner's  nakkativk. 


143 


ity  was 

mocca- 

r  party, 
or  any 

liltle  of 

a  sinfflo 

jiausing 

1  supply 

lose  who 

numonly 

ef  of  the 

vho  have 

ssary,  of 

5ecl  as  for 

rs. 

earrst  tho 

ely  reUii- 

'ioini'y  of 

(1  some  of 

[)uni!;  men 

chiinre  of 

i\  proceed- 
home,  wo 

lieil  Sioux, 
ads  in  i\w 
s'  journey 

lOjihheway 
taken  fiom 
hy  whom 
king  killed 
nds  among 
If  were  tra- 
,  and  I  was 
|-sink  camo 
the  horse. 
|o  his  heart, 
lat  he  de- 
Lopped,  Pe- 
lf the  main 


body,  in  order  to  avoid  farther  trouble  on  account  of  this  horse, 
all  of  them  being  apparently  unwilling  that  I  should  relinquish  it. 

There  were  four  men  of  this  war  party,  who  walked,  in  six 
days,  from  the  Chief  Mountain  to  Peml)inah  ;  but  our  band,  tliough 
many  of  us  had  horses,  took  ten  days  to  travel  the  same  distance. 
One  of  the  four  was  an  old  man,  an  Ottawwaw,  of  Wau-gun-uk- 
kezze,  or  L'Arbre  Croche.  When  I  arrived  at  Pembinah,  I  fotmd 
my  family  liad  gone  down  to  the  mouth  of  the  Assiiuieboin.  After 
the  separation  of  our  party,  most  of  my  parlindar  friends  having 
left  my  route  at  Penibinali,  my  horse  was  stolen  from  me  at  nigiit. 
I  knew  who  had  taken  him,  and  as  the  man  was  encamped  at  no 
great  distance,  I  took  my  arms  in  my  hands,  and  went  in  the 
morning  to  retake  him ;  but  on  my  way  I  met  Pe-shau-ba,  who, 
M'ithout  a  word  of  enciuiry,  comprehended  my  j)urpose,  and  pe- 
remptorily forbatie  me  to  proceeil.  Pe-shau-ba  was  a  g(jod  man, 
and  had  great  influence  with  the  people  of  his  band.  I  might 
have  gone  on  to  take  my  horse,  contrary  to  his  positive  injunc- 
tion, but  I  did  not  choose  to  do  so,  and  therefore  returned  with 
him  on  my  way.  I  had  now  no  moccasins,  and  felt  so  much  irri- 
tated on  account  of  tlie  loss  of  my  horse,  that  I  could  not  eat. 
When  I  arrived  at  home,  in  two  day's  walk  from  Pembinah,  I 
founrl  I  was  worn  out  with  fatigue,  my  feet  swollen  and  raw,  and 
I  found  my  family  starving.  Three  months  I  had  been  absent, 
my  lime  having  been  occupied  in  long  and  toilsome  marches,  all 
■'^suiting  in  nothing. 

It  was  necessary  for  me  to  go  to  hunt  immediately,  although 
the  condition  of  my  feet  was  such,  that  I  could  not  stand  without 
great  pain,  and  I  had  the  good  fortune  to  kill  a  moose  the  first 
time  I  went  out,  on  the  morning  after  my  return.  The  same  day- 
snow  fell  about  two  feet  deep,  which  enabled  me  to  kill  game  in 
great  plenty. 


^ 


Ml 


\ 


ii 


%!.<:<      '• 


^J 


fd4 


tanner's   NARKAXIVB, 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Visit  to  sp.veral  Assinnrboin  villages,  in  pursuit  of  stolen  horsps — peculiar  customs 
— I  Bcizc  a  horse  Ix-longing  to  an  Assinnrlioiii — war  excursion  lo  Turtle  Moun- 
tain— battle  at  a  village  of  the  Mandans — doctrines  of  the  SJhawncse  prophet — 
drunkenness,  and  its  eflects. 


W'.  i 


I  HAD  been  at  home  btit  a  short  time,  when  I  heard  that  the 
Assinneboins  had  boasted  of  takini;  my  horse.  As  I  was  iirepa- 
ring  to  go  in  pursuit  of  them,  an  Ojibbeway,  who  had  often  ♦ried 
to  dissuade  me  from  any  attempt  to  recover  him,  gave  me  a  hoi  -c, 
on  condition  that  I  would  not  attempt  to  retake  my  own ;  ac- 
cordingly, for  some  time,  I  said  no  more  about  it. 

Having  spent  the  winter  at  the  month  of  the  Assinneboin,  I 
went  to  make  sugar  at  (ireat  Wood  River ;  but  here  it  was  told 
me  that  the  Assinneboins  were  still  boasting  of  having  taken  my 
horse  from  me  ;  and  I,  with  some  persuasion,  prevailed  upon  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew  to  accompany  me  in  an  attempt  to  recover  him. 
At  the  end  of  four  day's  journey,  we  came  to  the  first  Assinne- 
boin village,  ten  miles  from  the  Mouse  River  trading  house. 
This  village  consisted  of  about  thirty  leather  !■  dges.  We  were 
discovered  before  we  came  to  the  village,  as  tlie  Assinneboins, 
being  a  revolted  band  of  the  Sioux,  and  in  alliance  with  the  Ojib- 
beways,  are  in  constant  apprehension  of  attacks  from  the  former, 
and  therefore  always  station  some  persons  to  watch  for  the  ap- 
proach of  strangers.  The  quarrel  which  resulted  in  the  separa- 
tion of  this  band  of  the  Bwoir-nug,  or  "roasters,"  as  the  Ojibbe- 
ways  call  the  Sioux,  originated  in  a  dispute  concerning  a  woman, 
and  happened,  as  we  are  informed,  not  many  years  ago.  So  many 
Ojibbeways  and  Trees  now  live  among  them,  that  they  are  most 
commonly  able  to  understand  something  of  the  Ojibbeway  lan- 
guage, tliough  their  own  dialect  is  very  unlike  it,  resembling 
closely  that  of  the  Sioux. 

One  of  the  men  who  came  out  to  meet  us,  was  Ma-me-no^ 


i'ANNER's    NARRATIVF- 


145 


uliar  custoiua 
rurtli'  Moun- 
Bse  prophet— 

rd  that  the 
was  irepa- 
lofii  II  'ied 
me  a  hill  ^c, 
iV  own;  ac- 

sinneboin,  I 
?  il  was  told 
II  g  taken  my 
ed  upon  Wa- 
lecover  him. 
irst  Assinne- 
uling  house. 
We  were 
ssinneboins, 
th  the  Ojib- 
II  the  former, 
for  the  ap- 
11  the  separa- 
the  Ojibbe- 
ng  a  w  oman, 
go.  So  many 
,ev  are  most 
libbeway  lau- 
L  resembhng 

Is  Ma-me-no- 


Kwaw-sink,  with  whom  Pe-shau-ba  had  quarrelleil,  some  time  be- 
fore, oil  my  arrouiU.  When  ho  eame  up  to  us,  he  asked  whither 
we  were  ffoiuir.  I  told  him,  "  I  am  come  for  our  horses,  wliieh 
the  Assiriiioborus  stole."  "You  had  better,"  said  he,  »•  return  as 
you  eaiiie,  for  if  you  go  to  the  village,  they  will  take  your  life." 
To  these  threats  I  j)ai(l  no  attention,  l)ut  eiKjuired  for  Ba-gis-kim- 
nung,  the  men  of  whose  family  had  taken  our  horses.  They  re- 
plied they  could  not  tell ;  that  Ba-gis-kuu-nuug  and  his  sons  had, 
soon  at'ter  the  retiun  of  the  war  |)arty,  gone  to  the  Mandans,  and 
Jiad  not  yet  come  hack  ;  that  wlicn  they  came  among  the  Man- 
dans,  the  former  owner  of  my  mare,  recognizing  the  animal,  had 
taken  her  from  the  son  of  Ba-gis-kun-nung  ;  but  that  the  latter 
contrived  to  remunerate  himself,  by  stealing  a  fine  black  horse, 
with  which  he  escaped,  and  had  not  been  heard  of  since.  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew  JH-ing  discouraged,  and  perhaps  intimidiitcdhy  the 
reception  wo  met  in  this  village,  endeavoured  to  dissuade  me  from 
going  farther ;  and  when  he  found  he  coidd  not  prevail,  he  left 
ine  to  pursue  my  horse  by  myself,  and  returned  home.  I  woidd 
not  he  discouraged,  but  determined  to  visit  every  village  and  camp 
of  the  Assinneboins,  rather  than  return  without  my  horse.  I  went 
to  the  Mouse  River  trading  house,  and  having  explained  the  ob- 
ject of  my  journey,  they  gave  me  two  pouiuls  of  powder  and 
thirty  balls,  with  some  knives  and  small  articles,  and  directions 
to  enable  me  to  find  the  next  village.  As  I  was  pursuing  my 
journey  by  myself,  I  had  occasion  to  cross  a  very  wide  prairie, 
in  which  I  discovered  at  a  distance,  something  lying  on  the  ground, 
resembling  a  log  of  wood.  As  I  knew  there  could  be  no  wood 
in  such  a  place,  ludess  it  were  drop})ed  by  some  person,  I  thought 
it  was  most  probably  some  article  of  dress,  or  perhaps  the  body 
of  a  man,  who  might  have  ))erished  on  a  journey,  or  when  out 
hunting.  I  made  my  a])proach  cautiously,  and  at  length  disco- 
vered it  was  a  man,  lying  on  his  belly,  with  his  gun  in  his  hands, 
and  waiting  for  wild  geese  to  fly  over.  His  attention  was  fixed 
in  the  direction  opposite  that  on  which  I  approached,  and  I  came 
very  near  him  without  being  discovered,  when  he  rose  and  dis- 
charged his  gun  at  a  flock  of  geese.  I  now  sprang  upon  him  ;  the 
noise  of  hawk  bells,  and  the  silver  ornaments  of  my  dress,  notified 
him  of  my  appuoach,  but  I  caught  him  in  iny  arms  before  he  had 

time  to  make  any  resistance,  his  gun  being  unloaded.     When  he 

10 


>} 
)  i 

■r 


,  iX 


I    i'^    '. 


I4ti 


TANNKR  S    NARKATIVK. 


saw  hiiiiseil  captured,  hv  crird  out  "  Assiniiehoiu,"  and  f  au- 
Mwercd,  "Ojibhpway."  We  were  both  jilad  to  find  tlint  we  could 
ireat  eaclj  other  as  Irioiids ;  and  tiioiijrh  wi'  rmdd  not  conversfc, 
on  account  of"  till'  dissinnlarily  of  our  dialects,  I  motioned  to  him 
to  sit  down  upon  the  jjround  beside  mo,  willi  which  re(iuest  ho 
immediately  com])li(>d.  1  ^ave  him  a  ^oose  I  had  killed  not  lon^; 
holbro,  and  after  restin<rfora  f«'w  moments,  signified  to  him  that  I 
wo\dd  accomj)an>  him  to  his  lo<l}re.  A  walk  of  about  two  hours, 
iirou^rhi  us  in  sijrlu  of  his  villajfo,  and  when  we  entered  it,  1  fol 
lowed  him  immediately  to  his  lod{fe.  As  I  entered  after  him,  { 
'saw  the  old  nutn  aiul  woman  cover  their  heads  with  their  blan- 
kets, and  my  companion  immediately  entered  a  small  lodge, 
merely  larf;o  enough  to  admit  <nu',  and  to  conceal  him  from  tlx 
remainder  of  the  family.  Here  he  remained,  his  food  beiiii. 
handed  to  him  by  his  wife  ;  but  thoujrh  secluded  from  sight,  li< 
maintained,  by  cctnversation,  some  inferco\n'so  with  those  wiili 
nut.  When  ho  wished  to  pass  out  of  the  lodj^e,  his  wife  jravi 
notice  to  her  j)ari'nls,  and  they  concealed  their  lieails,  and  ajrain. 
in  the  same  manner,  when  he  came  in. 

This  formality  is  strictly  observed  by  the  nuirried  men  ainoiiL 
the  Assinneboins.  and  I  believe  aiuonir  all  the  Hwoi-nuL^  or  Daii 
ko-tah,  as  they  call  tluniselves.  It  is  known  to  exist  amoiiii  tin 
Omowhowsof  the  Missouri.  It  affects  not  only  the  intercoms 
between  men  and  the  parents  of  their  wives,  but  that  with  tluii 
aunts  ami  uncles  ;  and  it  is  the  business  of  all  parties  alike,  ti 
avoid  seeinif  each  other.  If  a  man  enters  a  dwi'lliutf  in  whid 
his  son-in-law  is  sealed,  the  latter  conc<'als  his  face  until  he  ii( 
|)arts.  While  the  younif  men  remain  with  the  parents  of  tlin: 
wives,  they  have  h  little  separate  lodj^e  within,  or  a  part  dividn 
off  by  Huspendin<r  units  or  skins  ;  and  into  this  little  apartment  ili 
wife  retires  at  niirlit;  by  day  she  is  the  orifan  of  conimunicalin; 
with  those  without.  A  man  rarely,  if  e\or,  meiilimis  the  uniiK 
of  his  father-in-law,  and  it  is  considered  hiifhly  indecorous  iiiiil 
ilisresj)ectfnl  for  him  to  do  so.  This  custom  does  not  exi>t  iii 
any  shape  amonjr  the  Ojibbeways,  and  they  look  upon  it  as  a 
very  foolish  and  troublesiune  one. 

'i'lie  people  o|  this  lod>>c  tieateil  me  with  niu.h  kindnifo 
VotwitlHtamliuif  the  ureal  scarcity  of  corn  in  the  country,  tliev 
had  a    little   reserved,    which   ihev  cooked  and   l'Hvp   me.     Tl'' 


10  star 
on  a  t 
Wl 

ol'ri'p, 

I  had 

ihey  h 

used  l( 

l)oin,) 

killed. 

lollowit 

liear 

Fill, 
into  noi 

i<)  HOC  i 

Id"  the 
<hu-t.  in 


I 


Ml 


lANNKR  S     NAIMl.V'l  1\  I.. 


M7 


and  I  au- 
at  wc  could 
t  converse, 
)nod  to  liiiii 

rf<ivH'st  li'' 
til  not  lonji 
1)  him  that  I 
I  two  hours, 
•rod  it,  1  M 
alliM-  ]nn\,  \ 
I  tht'ir  blau- 
small   h)dgc. 
iin>  from  thi 
<  food  bt'iiis; 
oin  sitrht,  Iw 
li  those  willi 
his  wife  tra\i 
lis,  and  agiuii. 

d  men  amoiis: 

i-nutr.  or  l^'*'' 

isl  innon^  tin 

he  intereour-i 

lilt  with  tlitu 

ities  alike,  u 

iii^r  in  whirl 

until  he  di 
rents  of  lluii 

part  ilividi'i 
Hmrtnienl  iln 
•onvniunieatim 
Dus  the  uaiiii 
uleeorous  ain' 
•s  not  exi>t  ill 

ti|)on  it  ;i<  1 

ui.h  kini'iit'i'^ 
ronntry,  i'"'^ 
Hve  me.     Th' 


\  ouug  nuni  mid  them  how  much  he  had  been  friglileiied  by  me 
in  the  prairie,  at  whieli  tlity  all  laughed  heartily.  This  village 
i-onsisted  of  twenty-five  lodges  ;  but  although  I  iiKpiired  of  many 
<jf  them,  none  knew  where  Ba-gis-kun-nung  was  to  be  found. 
There  was  another  village  at  the  distance  of  about  one  day's  jour- 
ney :  he  ndght  be  there.  I  renuiined  a  little  while  at  the  lodge 
of  the  young  man  I  had  found  in  the  prairie,  anti  then  went  out 
to  start  f(»r  the  next  village,  (ieese  were  Hying  over,  and  I  raised 
mv  gnu  and  shot  one.  It  fell  in  the  nndst  of  a  nund)er  of  Assiu- 
nehoins.  Seeing  there  a  very  old  and  miserable  looking  man, 
[  motioned  lo  him  to  go  and  get  it.  Hut  he  must  fir.st  come  up 
to  me  to  express  his  gratitude,  by  a  method  1  had  not  before  seen 
iise»l.  lie  came  up,  and  placing  both  haiuls  on  the  lo|)  of  my 
head,  jiassed  them  .several  tinu's  down  the  long  hair  that  himg 
over  my  shoulders,  at  the  same  lime  saying  sonu-lhing  in  his  own 
iiuiouage,  which  I  could  not  imdt^rstaml.  He  then  went  and  took 
lip  the  goose,  and  returning,  connnunicated  to  nu'  by  signs  which 
I  iiad  no  dittictdty  to  understaml,  that  1  must  goto  his  lodge  and 
<'at  with  him,  before  I  could  leave  the  village.  While  he  Avas 
looking  the  go(»se,  1  went  about  from  lodge  to  lodge,  to  look  ai 
iheir  horses,  thinking  I  might  see  mine  among  them,  but  i  did 
not.  Some  ot  the  young  men  uf  the  village  accoin|)anie(l  mv,  hiil 
\iithoiit  any  arms,  and  all  seemed  friendly  ;  but  when  I  was  ready 
10  start  (or  the  next  village,  I  noticed  that  one  of  them,  mounted 
on  a  fleet  horse,  starlt-d  to  |)rece(le  me. 

When  I  arrived  al  this  villajre,  no  one  took  the  slightest  notice 
i»f  ii'p.  or  even  seenud  to  si'c  nu-.  They  were  a  baud  with  which 
I  had  previously  had  m»  acipiaintance,  and  I  could  p«'rceive  that 
they  had  bi'en  prejudiced  against  me.  'I'heir  chi«'f,  whom  we 
used  lo  call  Kali-(»ge-uiaw-we(  t  Assinncboin,  (llie  ciiief  Assiune- 
l)(un,)  was  a  distinguished  hunter,  but  he  was  soini  afterwards 
killed.  He  had  been  unusually  long  absent  from  honu  ,  and  b) 
following  his  track,  they  found  he  had  been  attacked  by  a  grizzly 
bear  in  the  prairie,  ami  killed. 

Fiudiuti  the  peoph>  of  this  baud  decitledly  unfriendly,  I  weni 
into  none  of  their  lodges,  bin  stood  about,  watchiiii:  th«'ir  horses, 
io  see  if  I  conhl  discover  mine  among  them.  I  had  heard  nnicb 
id"  the  fleetnesrt  and  beauty  of  a  young  horse  belonging  to  the 
'  hief.  and  I  s«ion  recoifnized   this  animnl.  known  to  me  onlv  by 


/;•■ ,'   if 


*    < 


.     \ 


148 


lANNKU  !S    XARHAllVt. 


W         '  '  . 


hi   :'( 


flescription.     I  had  a  lialter  under  my  blanket,  and  watching  u 
favourable  opportunity.  I  slipfx'd  it  on   llic  head  of  this    horse, 
mounted  him,  and  Hew  ratiier  than  fled.     I  was   excited  to  this 
action,  principally  by  a  ieelinffol' irritation  at  the  unl'riendly  con- 
duct of  the  people  of  the  villaire,  as  it  had  not  been  my  intention 
to  take  anv  liorse  but  the  one  which  beionjred  1(»  me.     When  the 
horse  and  myself  were  out  of  breath,  1  slopped  to  look  bark,  and 
the  Assinneboin  lodges  were  scanv  visible,  like  little  specks  on 
the  distant  prairie.     1  now  rellected  that  I  was  doing  wrong,  to 
steal  away  the  favctnrite  horse  of  a  man  who  hail  never  absolutely 
injured  me,  though  he  had  refused  the  customary  dues  o(  hospi- 
tality towards  a  stranger.      I    got  down  and    let't   the   liorse,  but 
had  scarce  done  so,  when  1  saw  thirty  or  forty  men  on  horseback, 
who  had  before   been  concealed  in  a  depression  in  the  prairie  ; 
they  were  in   pursuit,  and  very  near  me.     1  had  scarce  time  to 
fly  to  a  thicket  of  low  hazel  bushes,  when  they  were  upon  me. 
They  rode  about  for  s(»me  time  on  horseback  searching,  and  this 
delay  gav«'  me  some  little  time  to  choose  a  place  of  concealment. 
.4t  length  they  dismounted,  and  dispersed  themselves  in  variou> 
directions,  seeking  for  me.  Sonu'  came  near  me,  and  then  turned 
ofl'  Id  search   in  other  directions.     My  position  was  such  that  I 
could  watch  their  motions  without  the  risk  of  exposing  myself 
One  young  man  stripped  himself  as  for  battle,  sung  his  war  song, 
laid  aside  his   gun.  and   canu'  with   only  his  war  did)  direcii\ 
towards  the  spot  where  I  lay.   He  was  witlun  about  twenty  step^- 
of  me,  my  gun  was  <(i(ked  and  aimed  at    his  Inarl,  when   lie 
turned  and  went  back.     It   is  not   probable   he  8aw  mc ;  but  the 
idea  uf  being  watched  l)y  ati  imseen  enemy  armed  with  a  gun,  and 
whose  position   he  could  not  hope  to  ascertain  until   he   was  al- 
most over  iiini,  pr«bubly  overcame  his   res(dution.     They  con 
tinned  their  unavailing  search  until  mar  night,  and  then  returned, 
takiiur  the  chief's  horse  to  their  village. 

I  travi  lletl  towards  home,  rejoicing  in  my  escape,  and  without 
slopping  for  the  nijrht.  either  on  ihut  or  the  succeeding  one,  and  the 
third  night  arrived  at  the  Mouse  Kiver  trading  house.  The  tra- 
ders told  me  I  wan  a  fool  that  I  had  not  brought  the  chief's 
horse;  they  had  heard  much  of  his  ipialities,  and  would,  as  they 
nniti,  have  paid  iin>  a  hiuh  price  for  him. 

In  the  Assinneboin  village,  ten  miles  from  iIiIh  trndiiig  houi»r. 


.<' 


I'ANNER  S    NARRATIVK. 


149 


[filing  u 
1    horse, 

lu  this 
idly  con- 
nlenliou 
VI  ion  the 
mr  k,  and 
pocks  on 
vroug,  to 
bsolulely 
of  hospi- 
lorse,  l)Ut 
orst'buck, 
B  prairie  ; 
e  tinu'  to 
upon  nic. 
tr,  antl  this 
icealnitnl. 
ill  variolic 
H'li  tnnu'cl 
lull  that  I 
lljr  iiiysill 
;  war  song. 
il)  direr  I  ly 

iMity  sli'p>- 

wlu'n   lit; 

\v  .  hut  tin 

a  ginii  ami 
[he  was  al- 

riicy  I'on- 

ji  relumed, 

Lid  without 

[lie,  and  the 

The  tra- 

he  «hit'fV 

Id,  as  they 

lliiig  houur. 


J.  had  a  friend  called  Be-na,  (pheasant,)  and  when  I  had  passed 
throu'rh  I  recpM^sted  him,  while  I  should  he  absent,  to  endeavour 
lo  discover  my  horse,  or  at  least  to  ascertain,  and  be  able  to  tell 
me,  where  I  could  lind  lia-iris-kun-iiiiiijf.  When  I  returned 
thither,  after  visiting  Mouse  River  iradiiiij;  house,  Ue-na  took  mo 
immediately  into  a  lodge  wh(  re  a  couple  of  old  women  lived, 
and  looking  through  the  crevices,  he  pointed  out  to  me  the  lodgo 
of  Ba-gis-kun-nunir,  and  those  of  his  four  sons.  Their  horses 
were  feeding  about,  and  amoiiir  them  we  distin<riiished  the  tine 
black  one  they  had  brought  frnm  the  Maiidaiis  in  place  of  mine. 
VVa-ine-ffon-a-blew  had  been  lo  the  trading  house,  but  returned 
thence  to  the  village  belore  I  arrived,  and  was  now  waiting  for 
me  at  tlu"  lodge  of  smne  of  the  sons  of  a  br'ilher  of  Taw-ija-wc- 
niime,  who  wei«'  of  course  his  cousins,  and  were  very  frieiidiy  to 
jiim.  He  had  sent  messengers  to  Ba-gis-kun-nung,  otleriiiir  him 
a  good  gun,  a  <liief's  coal,  and  all  the  |>ro|)erty  he  had  about  him, 
for  a  horse  to  ride  home  on.  But  when  I  heard  this,  I  reproved 
liim  severely,  and  told  him  that  if  Ba-gis-kun-nimt>  had  accejited 
his  ])r<'sents,  it  wmild  only  have  (iccasi(uied  addititmal  tr<nible  to 
me,  as  I  should  have  been  c om|ielled  to  take  not  only  a  horse,  but 
those  presents  also. 

Soon  after  my  arrival  in  the  village,  I  went  to  Ba-gis-kun-nung. 
-;'d  to  him,  "I  want  a  horse."  "I  shall  not  give  you  (uie," 
n  vered.  "I  will  tiike  one  from  you."  "If  you  <lo  I  will 
.ioot  you."  With  this  I  returned  lo  the  lodge  of  B«'-na,  and 
made  my  preparations  for  siartiiiir  at  an  early  hour  in  the  morn- 
ing. Be-na  gave  me  a  new  bidlaloe  r(die  to  ride  home  on,  and  I 
got  from  an  (dd  woman,  a  piece  of  leather  thong  litr  :t  lialler. 
havinnr  left  mine  on  the  chief'-i  horse.  I  did  not  sleej)  in  Be-iia's 
loda^e.  but  with  our  cousins,  and  very  early  in  the  inorniiiir,  as  I 
was  reaily  to  start,  I  went  to  Be-iiu's  lodo(>,  but  he  was  not  awake, 
I  had  a  very  irnod  new  bliinkel,  whi<h  I  -|»nail  over  him  without 
makinu  any  noise;  then,  loixellier  with  Wa-me-guu-a-biew,  I 
aturted.  When  we  came  in  siirlii  (d"  tlir  lodirc  of  Ba-t,ns-kun-nim>{, 
we  s;iw  the  eldest  of  his  sous  silliiiif  dm  the  oiilside,  and  watching' 
the  horses.  Wa-mc-gmi-a-biew  endeavoured  lo  dissuade  me  from 
the  desiirn  of  allempting  lo  lake  (»ne,  since  we  could  not  do  it 
withoiii  being  seen,  and  liad  every  reason  to  believe  they  were 
prepared  to  uhp  violent  measures  to  prevent  us  from  succeeding 


ij  4.    ■ 


^m  f 


150 


TAN'NKr's    NAURATIVi;. 


r 


1   i 


1l. 


'.  u 


in  the  attempt.     I  told  liini  I  would  not  listen  to  liis  advice,  but 
consented  to  go  witli  him  two  hundred  yards  on  our  road,  and  la> 
down  our  bagiriiae ;    then  we  were  to  return  together,  and  take 
the  h(»rs(?.     When  we  liad  proceeded  as  I'ar  as  I  thought  neces- 
sary,  I  laid  down  my  load  ;  but  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  seeing  me  re- 
solute in  my  determination,  began  to  run.  At  the  same  lime  that 
he  star?f>d  to  run  from  the  viilaiie,  I   ran  towards  it,  and  the  son 
of"  Ba-gis-kun-nung,  wluii  he  saw  me  coming,  began  to  call  out 
as  loud  as  he  could  in  his  own  language.    I  could  oidy  distinguish 
the   words  "  Wah-kah-towali,"  and  "  Shoonk-ton-gah,"  (Ojibbe- 
way — horse.)     1  siip|)ose(l   he   said,  "an  Ojibbeway  is   taking  a 
horse."     I  answered,   "  Kah-ween-gwautch  Ojibbeway,"  (mu  al- 
together an  Ojibbeway.)     The   \illagewas  instantly  in   motion. 
In  the  faces  o("  most  of  those  who  gathered  round,  1  could  see  no 
settled   determination   to  act  in   any  way  ;    but    there   was   en- 
coiiriigement  in  the  countenances  of  m\  friend  Hc-na  and  a  luiin- 
ber  ot  I'rees  who  were  al)oiit  him.     There  was  manitest  hostility 
only  in  the  Ba-gis-kun-nungs.      1  was  so  agitated  that  I  could  not 
feel   iny  feet   touch  the   ground,  but    i   think   I   was   not  afraid. 
Wlii-n  I  had  got  my  halter  on  the  head  of  the  black  horse.  I  stood 
for  a  moment  hesitating  to  get  on  liim;  as  in   the  act  of  doing  so. 
1  must  for  llie  nutment,  deprivi-  myself  of  the  power  oi  t'sing  m\ 
arms,  and  could  not  avoid  exposing  myself  to  an  attack  behind. 
But  recollecting  (hat  any  thing  like  indeci-ioii,  would  at  this  time 
hav<'  a  most   uidiivonrable  effect,   I  jiave  a  jump  lo  moinit  th, 
horse,  but    jiimpeil  so  much   higher  and   farther  than  was  neces- 
sary, that  I  fell  sprawling  on  the  gruuiid  on  the  other  side  of  the 
horse,  my  (run  in  one  hand,  my  bow  and  arrows  in  the  other.     I 
regained  my  feet  as  soon  as  I  could,  and   looked  romid  to  watch 
the  motions  of  hiv  •  nemirs ;  but  piesetitly  an  imi\eisal  shout  ot 
laughter,  in  whicii  all   joined  but   the  Ba-gis-kun-nunirs,  gave  nic 
!S<Mne  C(m!'dence,   Mid    I   procee 'ed   more  deliberately  to  mount. 
I  knew  if  ibey  could    hav«!  ventured  to  nuike  any  open  attack  on 
me,  it  WMuld  have  been  at  the  tinu-  I  was  lying  on  the  gromul. 
and  not   in  a  situati(ni   to  make  any  danger(Uis  resistance.     The 
loud  and  hearty  laut^hter  of  the  Indians,  c(mvinced  me  also,  tlinl 
whul  I  was  doing  wns  not  generally  (dli-nsive  to  them. 

When  I  turned  lo  ride  ofl',   I  saw  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  still  rui\- 
nine  like  a  t'riuhtenod  turkey  :  he  was  almoHtout  of  siiihl.  When 


••% 


iL 


XANNKli's    NARKATIVK. 


151 


and  lay 
ul  tako 
L  neces- 
r  me  rc- 
ime  that 

tlie  son 

call  out 
ainfiuisli 
(Ojibbe- 
lakiiig  a 
'  (not  al- 

niotion. 
ik!  SCO  no 

was  cn- 
1(1  ii  luim- 
t  hoslilitv 
cotiltl  nm 
lol  afraid, 
sc,  I  stood 
f  doing  so. 

csing  •»> 

k  behind. 
\  tViis  time- 
monnl  thi 
was  ncces- 

sidc  of  till' 

other.     1 

1(1  to  watfh 

il  shout  of 

s,  gave  nu 
til  nuxiiii. 

|u  attack  uu 

ic   ground. 

knee.     The 

[«■  also,  that 

l\v  still  riiit- 
Lhl.  "When 


1  overtook  him,  I  saidv  "  My  brother,  you  must  be  tired,  I  will 
lend  you  my  horse,"  and  we  went  on  together.  At  length,  we 
saw  two  men  coming  on  horseback  from  the  village,  to  pursuit 
us.  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  was  alarmed,  and  would  have  rode  olV. 
leaving  me  to  settle  the  difliculty  w  iih  them  as  i  could ;  but  per- 
ceiving his  intention,  1  called  to  him  to  leave  the  horse,  which 
he  did,  and  resumed  his  race  on  foot.  Wiieix  the  two  men  had 
approached  within  about  half  a  ndle  of  me,  I  got  down  from  tlif 
Jiorse.  aiul  taking  the  halter  in  my  hand,  stood  with  my  face  to- 
wards tliem.  They  stoj)peil  in  the  j)aih,  at  a  distance  frotn  me. 
and  looking  around  in  the  other  direction,  I  perceived  that  VVa- 
me-gon-a-biew  had  concealed  himself  in  the  bushes.  The  two 
men  stood  in  the  road,  and  1  remained  holding  my  horse  nearly 
in  the  same  place  until  near  noon.  The  people  of  the  village 
stood,  in  great  numbers,  on  a  little  elevation  close  by  the  lodges, 
anil  watched  to  see  what  woidd  be  done.  The  two  IJa-gis-kun- 
nunirs,  after  they  W'cre  tired  of  standing,  sei)arated,  aiut  one 
came  round  on  one  side,  the  other  on  the  other,  and  came  up  op- 
posite to  me  ;  and  it  was  then  1  thought  they  woulil  approach  me. 
one  on  one  side,  the  other  on  the  other,  and  thus  get  an  opportu- 
nity to  shoot  me  down  ;  but  after  coming  near  me  once  or  twice, 
they  went  on,  aiul  got  together  in  the  road,  between  me  and  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew.  I  now  began  to  tire  of  their  pusilanimous  be- 
haviour, and  getting  on  my  horse,  1  rode  toward  them  ;  but  they 
Imiied  out  of  my  way,  and  went  around  to  the  village.  In  this 
iilVair,  I  foimd  Wa-iiie-gon-a-biew  more  cowardly  than  it  was 
usual  even  for  him  to  be;  but  it  hap|)ened  that  the  chiefs,  and 
the  considerate  men  of  the  band  to  whom  Ba-gis-kun-nung  be- 
lomred,  were  glad  I  had  come  to  take  a  horse.  Ua-gis-kuii-mmg 
and  his  sons  were  considered  troublesome  and  bad  men  ;  hence 
it  was,  that  I  was  able  to  ,arry  throiigii  this  enterj)rise  without 
any  assistance  from  \N  a-me-jjon-a-bicw. 

After  tlm  two  men  turn«'d  hack,  I  rode  along,  and  Wa-me- 
gon-a-biew  joined  me  fr<tm  the  bushes,  where  he  had  been  con- 
cealed. We  found  that  niglit  the  lodire  of  our  old  friend,  NVaw- 
ao,  who  used  formerly  to  live  with  Pe-shau-ba.  The  horse  I 
Iwd  taken  I  concealed  in  the  woods,  and  did  not  wish  to  tell  Waw- 
so  of  what  I  had  done.  Hul  in  the  mid  le  of  the  night,  after  I 
fell  aslec)).  Wa-me-uon-a-biew  begai»  to  relate  to  him  all  that  hud 


.•'^: 


.f. 


^4 


152 


tanner's  narrative. 


W      f 


I  '<:■. 


t  <       4 


i  \ 


\ 


happened  the  preceding  day,  and  when  he  came  to  hear  of  my 
juniping  over  the  horse,  ol"  which  I  had  tohl  Wa-nie-gon-a-biew, 
the  ohi  man  waked  me  with  liis  loud  and  hearty  laughter. 

We  spent  the  night  with  Waw-so,  and  next  morning  continued 
on  our  journey,  towards  Ko-te-kwaw-wi-ah-we-se-be,  where  I 
lived.  1  had  now  two  horses,  and  a  friend  of  mine  coming 
along,  who  had  none,  I  promised  to  give  him  one  ;  but  as  he  was 
not  then  going  home,  he  del'eired  taking  it  unlii  he  should  pass 
again.  In  the  mean  time,  the  horse  1  had  intended  for  him, 
died  of  a  brok( n  lilood  vessel,  so  that  I  had  none  remaining  but 
the  black  horse,  which  I  called  Mandaii,  and  to  which  I  had  be- 
come much  attached  ;  but  when  the  man  returned,  1  could  do  no 
otherwise  than  give  him  this  one.  My  wife  cried,  and  1  felt 
much  regret  at  parting  with  iliis  valuable  horse. 

Three  months  alter  this,  the  Crees  sent  tobacco  to  the  Ojibbe- 
ways,  to  accompany  them  to  the  Mandans,  and  join  in  an  attack 
on  some  of  the  Bwoi-nug,  in  the  country  of  the  Missouri.  As 
these  messages  were  going  about,  I  recived  word  Irom  Ua-gis- 
kun-nung,  that  he  did  not  wish  to  liave  me  join  in  the  war-j)arty. 
This  amounted  to  a  threat  to  take  my  life  if  I  went,  but  1  i)aicl 
no  attention  to  it. 

In  six  days  1  could  go  I'rom  my  place  to  Turtle  Mountain, 
where  the  Crees  were  assembling,  in  considerable  numbers.  I 
had  been  waitins;  about  one  month,  when  Wa-ge-tole  arrived 
with  sixty  men,  on  his  way  to  IIk'  rende/vous.  Here  eit[ht  of  us 
joined  him,  and  ga\e  wliat  assistance  we  could  in  j)rovisiuns,  to 
his  party,  who  ha<l  been  starving  for  some  lime.  Soon  we  were 
all  suffering  alike ;  we  bad  liavcllcd  on  two  or  three  days,  when 
twenty  young  men  were  selected  t<i  go  and  hunt  biilliih»e.  Wn- 
ge-tt)te  insisted  that  I  must  go  witli  them,  but  I  declined.  He 
urged  it  upon  me  rejiealedlv,  and,  at  last,  taking  my  load  on  his 
own  shoidders,  lie  said,  "  i\ow,  my  mpliew,  you  must  go,  audi 
will  curry  your  load  (ny  \iiu,  till  you  join  us  again."  I  went 
forward  a  short  distance,  and  Inul  tin  good  foilime  to  kill  an  elk. 
Th«'  Indians  fell  on  it  like  hmiiiry  dogs,  and  so(»n  not  a  particle 
of  it  was  left,  tlnMigh  1  believe  not  more  than  half  of  those  that 
were  in  a  starving  condition  tis.ed  of  it.  The  twenty  men  tliut 
had  been  sent  out,  returned  without  having  killed  any  thing. 
They  now  becfune  so  weak  from  hunger,  that  nund)ers  were  loO, 


^* 


1'ANNKr's    NARRATIVi;. 


I5B 


■  ot  my 
-a-biew, 

)ntinued 
whoro  I 
cdining 
IS  he  was 
)ulil  pass 
lor  liim, 
iniiiii  but, 
I  hail  l)c- 
iild  do  no 
ami  I  felt 

ic  Ojibbc- 
aii  attack 
iouii.  As 
mi  Ba-gis- 
\var-j»iirly- 
but  I  paid 


!)eing  unable  to  walk.  For  many  days  we  had  no  other  food 
than  the  roots  of  the  Me-tush-koo-she-min,*  (grass  berry,)  an 
esculent  root,  called  Pommeblanch  by  the  Frenchmen.  I  was 
myself  about  to  fail,  when  late  one  night,  as  all  were  asleep,  an 
old  man,  a  relative  of  my  wife,  waked  me,  and  put  carefully 
into  my  hand  a  small  quantity  of  pemmican,  which  he  had  car- 
ried concealed  about  him.  This  enabled  me  to  reach  the  Turtle 
Mountain,  to  which  place,  probal)ly,  about  half  of  Wa-ge-tote's 
band  arrived  at  the  same  time.  Of  those  that  had  parted  from 
us,  some  afterwards  joined,  some  returned  to  their  own  country, 
und  others  were  no  more  heiird  of. 

The  Assinneboins  and  Crees  whom  we  had  expected  to  meet 
at  Turtle  iMount  mi,  '  eft  it  some  time  before  ""''  wc  had  fol- 
lowed on  their  !  bui  "'w  days,  when  we  }u  *nem  return- 
ing. They  related  to  us,  that  they  had  arrived  at  the  Mandan 
village  just  as  a  war-party  of  the  Sioux  had  reached  the  same 
jdace,  with  a  design  to  attack  the  town.  The  Mandan  chief  said 
lO  them,  as  soon  as  they  came,  "  My  friends,  these  Sioux  hav»! 
come  hither  to  put  out  my  fire.  They  know  not  that  you  are 
here.  As  they  have  not  come  against  you,  why  should  your 
blood  flow  in  our  quarrel  ?  Remain,  therefore,  in  my  village, 
and  you  shall  see  that  we  are  men,  and  need  no  help  when  they 
come  to  fight  us  at  our  own  doors."  The  Mandan  village  was 
surrounded  by  a  wall  of  pickets,  and  close  to  these  the  Sioux 
fought  all  day.  At  length,  an  intermission  took  place,  and  the 
Mandan  cliief,  calling  to  the  Sioux  from  the  inside,  said  to  them. 
"  Depart  from  about  our  villa^re,  or  we  will  let  out  upon  you 
our  friends,  the  Ojibbeways,  who  have  been  sitting  here  all  day. 
and  are  now  fresh  aiul  unwearied.*'  The  Sioux  answered,  "This 
is  a  vain  boast,  made  willi  a  design  to  conceal  your  weakness. 
You  have  no  Ojibbeways  in  your  house,  and  if  you  had  hun 
dreds,  we  neither  fear  nor  regard  them.  The  Ojibbeways  arc 
women,  and  if  your  village  were  full  of  them,  we  would,  for  that 
reason,  the  sooner  come  among  you."  The  Crees  and  Assinne- 
boinfl,  hearing  these  taunts,  became  irritated,  and  ran  out  to  at- 


■i 


I 


i| 


♦  ThiH  is  one  of  the  sperioit  of  Pwiriilen,  so  ahuiulunl  in  the  open  countries  of 
the  MistMturi.  When  tioiled  or  roiihtod,  the  rootB  arc  exceedingly  palatable  and 
nulriticiuHi  but  the  exclusive  UHe  of  them  commonly  ocuusionti  deruigement  cf 
'he  bowels 

90 


!^/"^ 


VIM 


I      * 


454 


iANNER  S    N&KKAl'lVi::. 


f  . 


i 


(j.F 


lack  the  Sioux,  which  the  latter  perceiving,  fled  in  all  directions. 
The  Ojibbeways,  though  they  had  little  share  in  the  fight,  were 
^llowed  to  have  some   of  the  scalps  taken  during  the  day,  and 
one  of  these  fell  into  the  hands  of  onr  chief,  Wa-ge-tote,  though 
he  had  not  been  within  several  days'  march  of  the  scene  of  ac- 
tion, and  with  this  trophy  he  returned   towards  his  own  coun- 
try.    When  we  reached  Turtle   Mountain,   on  our  return,   we 
were  all  suffering  the  extremity  of  hunger,  and  many  were  quite 
unable  to  travel  farther.     VVe  were,  therefore,  compelled  to  stop, 
and  of  the  whole  party,  there  were  found  only  four  who  had 
strength  and  resolution  enengh  remaining,  to  undertake  to  hunt. 
These  were  an  old  man,  called  (iitch-e-weesh,  (big  beaver  lodge,) 
two  young  men,  and  myself.     Gitch-e-weesh,  the  old  man,  was 
in  high  spirits,  and   expressed   the  utmost  contidence  that  he 
should  kill  something.     "  When  I  was  yet  a  little  boy,"  said  he, 
"  the  Great  Spirit  came  to  me,  after  I  had  been  fasting  for  three 
days,  and  ;old  me  he  had  heard  my  crying,  and  had  come  to  tell 
me  that  he  did  not  wish  to  hear  me  cry  and  complain  so  often, 
but  that  if  ever  I   was  reduced  to  the  danger  of  immediately 
perishing  of  hunger,  then  I  sho\dd  call  uj)on  iiim,  and  he  would 
hear  and  give  me  something.     1  have   never  called  before,  but 
last  night  I  spent  in  prayer   and   singing,  and  I  have  assurance 
that  I  shall  this  day  be  fed  by  the  boimty  of  the  (Jreat  God.     I 
have  never  asked  before,  and  I  know  that  he  will  not  forget  his 
promise."     We  all  started  at  the  same  time  in  the  morning,  but 
went  to  hunt  in  ditferenf  directions.     I  hunted  all  day  without 
finding  any  thing,  and   so    weak  was  1,  that  I  could  traverse  but 
a  very  small  «'Xtent  of  groimd.     It  was  late  when  I  came  in  ;  the 
two  young  men  were  in  before  me  ;  all  began  to  desi)air;  but  old 
Gitch-e-weesh  was  still  absent.     At  a  very  late  hour  he  arrived, 
bending  under  a  heavy  load  of  meal.     I  was  selected   to  cook 
and  make  an  emial  division  of  what  he  had  brought.     Next  day 
we  went  to  the  place  where  the  moose  had  been  killed,  all  the  re- 
mainder of  which  we  soon  devoured. 

Near  this  place,  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  discovered  a  large  quanti- 
ty of  property,  which  had  been  left  by  a  band  of  Assinneboiiis, 
as  a  medicine  sacrifice.  Property  left  in  this  way  is  called  me- 
tal sas-sah-ge-witch-e-gnn,  or  puk-ketch-e-gun-nun,  and  may  be 
taken   Iiy  any  friendly  party.     Rut  the  ofl'erinifs  made  to  ensure 


IANNKR'H    NAKHATIVI., 


iory 


success  in  war,  commonly  called  sah-sah-gc-wiich-c-jorun,  may 
not  be  taken  from  the  place  wliere  they  are  left.  Wa-me-gon-a- 
biew  having  been  in  the  top  of  a  tree,  at  the  time  he  made  this 
discovery,  and  having  pointed  out  the  place  to  the  Indians  im- 
mediately, was  so  late  in  coming  down,  that  every  blanket,  every 
piece  of  cloth,  and,  indeed,  every  thing  of  vahie,  was  seized  and 
appropriated  before  he  came  up.  He  said  little  of  his  dissatisfac- 
tion at  this,  though  it  was  evident  enough.  He  went  aside  and 
s-it  down  by  himself  on  a  log.  Disturbing  with  his  foot  a  pile  of 
dry  leaves,  he  found  buried  under  it  a  brass  kettle,  inverted,  and 
covering  a  quantity  of  valuable  offerings  to  the  earth.  These  he 
of  course  seized  upon  for  himself,  and  his  portion  was  more 
valuable  than  that  of  any  other.  The  blankets,  robes,  strouding, 
etc.  &c.  were  suspended  in  trees;  but  the  quantity  was  largeF 
than  is  usually  seen  in  places  where  such  sacrifices  have  been 
made.  The  Assinneboins  had  worshij)ped  here,  when  on  tiieit 
way  to  the  country  of  the  Sioux.  In  travelling  from  this  place 
to  my  home,  I  killed  no  more  game,  and  was  of  course  nearly 
famished.  When  I  arrived,  my  family  were  in  the  same  situa- 
tion ;  but  next  day  I  had  good  luck,  and  killed  an  elk  ;  after- 
wards I  was  able,  by  my  own  exertions,  to  procure  a  plentiful 
supply. 

It  was  while  I  was  living  here  at  Great  Wood  River,  that 
news  came  of  a  great  man  among  the  awneese,  who  had  been 
favoured  by  a  revelation  of  the  mind  and  will  of  the  Great  Spirit. 
I  was  hunting  in  the  prairie,  at  a  great  distance  fiom  my  lodge, 
when  I  saw  a  stranger  approaching  ;  at  first,  I  was  apprehensive 
of  an  enemy,  but,  as  he  drew  nearer,  his  dress  showed  him  to  be- 
an Ojibbeway  ;  but  v\hen  he  came  up,  there  was  something  ver}' 
strange  and  peculiar  in  his  manner.  He  signified  to  me,  that  1 
must  go  home,  but  gave  no  explanation  of  tlie  cause.  He  rv- 
fused  to  look  at  me,  or  enter  into  any  kind  of  coiiv<  isation.  I 
tho\ight  he  must  be  crazy,  but  nevertheless  accompanied  him  to 
my  lodge.  When  we  had  smoked,  he  remained  a  long  time  si- 
lent, but,  at  last,  began  to  tell  me  he  had  come  with  a  message 
from  the  prophet  of  the  Shawneese.  •'  Henceforth,"  said  he, 
"  the  lire  must  never  be  suflered  to  go  out  in  your  lodge.  Sum- 
mer and  winter,  day  and  night,  in  the  storm,  or  when  it  is  calm, 
von  must  remember  that  the  life,  in  your  body,  »nd  the  fire  in 


\ 


^■'^iv 


r--' 


*   n 


r  ■    ' 


I 


loH 


lANNK 


NAUKATUl:.. 


A  our  lodgr,  arc  the  same,  and  i,  the  same  date.  K  you  sutter 
your  lire  to  be  extiuf^uislicd,  at  ih,  '  n  M-nt  your  life  will  bv  at 
its  end.     You  must  not  nufler  a  di  live;  you  must  never 

strike  cither  a  man,  a  woman,  a  eiiild,  or  a  dojf.  The  prophet 
himself  is  cominjf  to  shake  hands  with  you  ;  but  I  have  come  be- 
fore, that  you  may  know  what  is  the  will  of  the  (Jreat  Sjiirit, 
eommunicated  to  ua  by  him,  and  to  inform  you  that  the  jM-eser- 
vation  of  your  life,  for  a  single  moment,  de|)ends  on  your  entire 
obedience.  From  this  time  forward,  we  are  neither  to  be  drunk, 
to  steal,  to  lie,  or  to  go  against  our  enemies.  While  we  yield  an 
entire  obedience  to  these  commands  of  llic  Great  Spirit,  the 
Sioux,  even  if  they  come  to  our  country,  will  not  be  able  to  see 
us  :  we  shall  be  protected  and  made  happy."  I  listened  to  all 
he  had  to  say,  but  tohl  him,  in  answer,  that  I  could  not  believe 
we  should  all  die,  in  case  our  lire  went  out ;  in  many  instances, 
also,  it  would  be  dillicnlt  to  avoid  punishing  our  children ;  our 
dogs  were  useful  in  aiding  us  to  hunt  and  take  animals,  so  that  I 
could  not  believe  the  (treat  Spirit  had  any  wish  to  take  them  from 
us.  He  continued  talking  to  us  until  late  at  night ;  then  he  la) 
down  to  sleep  in  my  lodge.  I  happened  to  wake  first  in  the 
morning,  and  perceiving  the  tire  had  gone  out,  I  called  him  to 
get  up,  and  see  how  many  of  us  were  living,  and  how  man\ 
dead.  He  was  prepared  for  the  ridicule  I  attempted  to  throw 
upon  his  doctrine,  and  told  me  that  1  had  not  yet  shaken  hamls 
with  the  prophet.  His  visit  had  been  to  prepare  me  for  this  im- 
portant event,  and  to  make  me  aware  of  the  obligations  and 
risks  I  should  incur,  by  entering  into  the  eUf^agement  implied  in 
taking  in  my  iuind  the  message  of  the  prophet.  I  did  not  rest 
entirely  easy  in  my  unbelief.  The  Indians,  generally,  received 
ihe  doctrine  of  this  man  with  great  humility  and  fear.  Distress 
and  anxiety  was  visible  in  every  countenance.  Many  killed 
their  dogs,  and  endeavoured  to  practice  obedience  to  all  the 
commands  of  this  new  preacher,  who  still  remained  among  us. 
But,  as  was  usual  with  me,  in  any  emergency  of  tliis  kind,  I 
went  to  the  trarlers,  firmly  believing,  that  if  the  Deity  had  any 
communications  to  make  to  men,  they  would  be  given,  in  the 
first  instance,  to  white  men.  The  traders  ridiculed  and  despised 
the  idea  of  a  new  revelation  of  the  Divine  will,  and  the  thought 
that  it  should  be  given  to  a  poor  Shawnee.    Thus  was  I  conlirm- 


TANNKR  S    NARitATlVI.. 


157 


)\\  sutler 
ill  be  at 
rtl  never 
prophet 
•ome  be- 
ill  Spirit, 
i  proser- 
lur  entire 
ie  ilruiik, 
^.  yield  an 
■Spirit,  the 
l)le  to  see 
ned  to  all 
lOl  believe 
instances, 
dren;  our 
?,  so  that  1 
them  from 
lien  he  lay 
irst  in  the 
led  him  to 
how  man\ 
1   to  throw 
a  ken  hands 
ior  this  im- 
ations  and 
implied  in 
Ilid  not  rest 
y,  received 
Distres? 
llaiiy   killed 
to   all  the 
amonjr  us. 
lis   kind,  I 
Ity  had  any 
|ven,  in  the 
lul  despised 
the  thtMight 
Is  1  conlirm- 


ed  in  my  infidelity.  Nevertheless.  I  did  iioi  openly  avow  my 
nnbeliet  to  ilie  Indians,  only  1  n'fiised  to  kill  nty  dojrs,  ami  show- 
ed no  {Treat  dejfree  ol"  anxiety  to  comi)ly  with  his  other  reiiuire- 
nients.  As  lon^  as  I  remained  amoM{Lr  the  Indians,  1  made  il  ni) 
business  to  eonlbrm,  as  far  as  a|)peared  eonsisteiit  with  my  im- 
mediate eonvenienee  and  comfort,  with  all  their  customs.  Many 
of  their  ideas  I  have  aiiopted  ;  but  I  always  found  amon^'  them 
opinions  which  i  could  not  holil.  The  .  sjihbeway  whom  I  havo 
mentioned,  remained  sonu'  lime  -.mtini!,  the  Indians,  in  my  iieiffh- 
bourhood,  and  gained  the  attention  of  the  principal  men  so  elVec- 
tually,  that  a  time  waH  appointed,  und  a  lod^'C  j)repared,  for  the 
solemn  and  public  esponsinjr  of  the  doctrines  ol'  the  prophet. 
When  the  iK'ople,  and  I  amonsr  them,  were  brought  into  the  lonff 
lodire,  prepared  for  this  solemnity,  we  saw  something  caref\dly 
concealed  under  a  blanket,  in  figure  and  dinu'nsions  bearing 
some  resemblance  to  the  form  of  a  man.  This  was  accom|)unied 
l>y  two  young  men,  who,  it  was  understfiod,  attended  constantly 
upon  it,  made  its  bed  at  night,  us  Hir  a  man,  ami  slept  near  il. 
But  while  we  remained,  no  one  went  near  it,  or  raiserl  the  blank ''t 
which  was  spread  over  its  imknowii  contents.  Four  strings  of 
mouldy  and  discoloured  beans,  were  all  tin'  remainintr  visil)Ie  in- 
-iirnia  of  this  important  mission.  After  a  lon^j  haranoiie,  in 
which  lli<f  prominent  features  of  the  new  rev  lalion  were  siat<'d 
;iml  urged  upon  the  attentiiUi  of  all.  the  finir  slrintrs  of  beans, 
which  we  were  tctld  were  made  of  the  Ue-h  itself  of  the  projjhet. 
wen;  carried,  with  muili  solemnity,  to  each  man  in  the  lodiie. 
;ind  he  was  expected  to  take  hold  of  each  string  at  the  top,  a. id 
draw  them  gently  through  his  hand.  This  was  called  shaking 
hands  with  the  proi»het.  and  was  .-onsidered  as  solemnlv  engaging 
to  obey  his  injunctions,  and  accept  his  mission  as  iVom  the  Su- 
preme. All  the  Indians  who  touched  llie  beans,  had  previoiislv 
killed  their  dogs:  they  gav(  up  their  me  ne  hairs,  and  show- 
ed a  disposition  to  comi)ly  with  all  that  should  he  r''i|uired  of 
them. 

We  had  now  been  for  some  time  assembled  in  considerable 
numbers;  much  agitation  and  terror  had  |)revaileil  among  us, 
and  now  famine  began  to  be  felt.  The  faces  of  men  wore  an 
aspect  of  unusual  gloominess  ;  the  active  became  indolent,  and 
the  spirits  of  the  bravest  seemed  to  be  subdued.     I  started  to 


1    \i 


^; 


^---^^muKBtmmmm 


S'  "' 


> 

t 


158 


I'ANNER's)    NAnRATlVib'. 


<  I, 


i' 


hunt  with  my  dogs,  whu-h  I  had  ronsiaiitly  rrfuserl  to  kill,  ok 
sufler  to  be  killed.  By  thrir  assistance,  I  louiul  and  killed  a 
bear.  On  returning  home,  I  said  to  some  of  the  Indians,  **  Mas 
not  the  Great  Spirit  giv»^n  us  our  <logs  to  aid  us  in  proruring 
what  is  needful  lor  the  support  of  our  life,  and  can  you  believe 
he  wishes  now  to  deprive  us  of  their  services  ?  The  prophet, 
wi  are  told,  has  forbid  us  to  sutler  our  fire  to  be  extiiiL^uished  in 
our  lodges,  and  when  we  travel  or  hunt,  he  will  not  allow  us  to 
use  a  Hint  and  sle<'l,  and  ue  are  told  he  recjuires  that  no  man 
should  give  tire  to  another.  Can  it  please  the  (Jreat  Spirit  that 
we  should  lie  in  our  hunting  camps  without  tire  ;  or  is  it  more 
agreeable  to  him  that  we  should  make  lire  by  rubbing  togetlier 
two  slicks,  than  with  a  Hint  and  a  piece  of  steel  f"  But  they 
would  not  listen  to  me,  and  the  serious  enthusiasm  which  pre- 
\ailed  among  them  so  far  atU'Cted  me,  that  I  threw  away  my  tiint 
and  steel,  laid  aside  my  medicine  bag,  and,  in  many  particidars, 
rom])lied  with  the  new  doctrines  ;  but  I  would  not  kill  my  dogs. 
I  soon  learned  to  kindle  a  lire  by  rubbing  some  dry  cedar,  which 
I  was  careful  to  carry  always  about  me;  but  the  discontinuance 
of  the  use  of  Hint  and  steel  subjected  m;iny  of  the  Indians  to 
jnuch  inconvenience  and  suH'ering.  The  inlluence  of  the  Shaw- 
nee prophet  was  \  ery  sensil)ly  and  painfully  tell  by  the  remotest 
Ojibbeways  of  whom  I  had  any  knowledge  ;  but  it  was  not  the 
common  impression  among  them,  that  his  do<'trines  had  anv 
tendency  to  unite  them  in  the  accomplishment  of  any  human 
purpose,  f'or  two  or  three  years  drunkenness  was  much  less 
frequent  than  formerly;  war  was  less  thought  of,  and  the  entire 
aspect  of  affairs  among  them,  wa-<  somewhat  changed  by  the  in- 
lluence of  one  man.  But  gradually  the  impression  was  obliter- 
ated, medicine  baLf^^,  Hints,  and  steels,  were  resinned ;  dogs  were 
raised,  women  and  children  were  beaten  as  before,  and  the 
Shawnee  proplut  was  despised.  At  this  day  he  is  looked  upon 
by  the  Indians  as  an  impostor  and  a  bad  man. 

After  the  excitement  of  this  afl'air  had  somewhat  subsided,  and 
the  messengers  had  left  us  to  visit  remoter  ba»uls,  I  went  with  a 
larjie  party  of  Indians  to  some  of  the  upper  branches  of  Red 
River,  to  hunt  beaver.  I  know  not  whether  it  was  that  we  were 
emboldened  by  the  promise  of  the  prophet,  that  we  should  be 
invisible  to  the  Sioux,  but  we  went  much  nearer  than  we,  Imd 


IANNKR's  narrativk. 


169 


kill,  or 
kilU'tl  a 
i,  "  Has 
rocuring 
1  holW-vc 
j)ri>\)ln'ti 
iiiislu'tl  in 
ow  us  to 
t  no  man 
spirit  that 
is  it  nutiT 
r  totfollier 
But  they 
•liich  pre- 
ly  my  tlint 
,arti(Milars, 
1  my  (h)<!;^. 
liar,  which 
oiilinuancf 
Indians  to 
■  the  Shaw- 
lie  remotest 
as  not  thf 
^s   hatl  any 
any  human 
nnieli  less 
the  entire 
hy  the  in- 
«  as  ohlilev- 
ilogs  were 
1',   and   the 
oked  upon 


ibrmerly  ventured  to  their  country,  it  was  here,  in  a  border 
region,  where  both  they  and  ourselves  had  been  afraid  to  hunt, 
that  we  now  found  beaver  in  the  gr«'atest  abundance  ;  here,  with- 
out the  aid  of  my  gun,  I  look  one  hundred  large  beavers  in  a 
singh'  month,  by  trapping  merely.  My  fainilj  was  now  ten  in 
nuud)er,  six  (tf  whom  were  cnphan  children,  and  although  there 
was  no  one  but  niystdf  to  hunt  or  trap,  I  was  able,  for  some  time, 
to  supi)ly  all  their  wants.  At  lengtii,  beaver  began  to  grow 
scarce,  and  1  was  comi>elled  to  shoot  an  elk.  My  family  had 
been  so  long  unaccustomed  to  hear  guns,  that  at  the  sound  of 
mine  they  left  the  lodge  and  fled  to  the  woods,  believing  the 
Sioux  had  tired  upon  me.  I  was  compelleil  to  carry  my  trajis  to 
a  greater  distance,  and  to  visit  ihem  only  in  the  middle  ot  the 
(lay.  My  gun  was  constantly  in  my  hand ;  if  I  had  occasion  to 
do  any  thiiijr,  I  held  my  gun  in  one  hand  and  lalwured  with  the 
other.  1  slept  a  little  by  day,  but  during  the  night,  and  every 
night,  I  watched  around  my  lodge.  Heing  agal  out  of  meat.  I 
went  to  the  woods  to  hunt  moose,  and  in  one  day  killed  four.  I 
butchered  and  cut  them  open  without  laying  down  my  gu.i.  A  >  I 
was  cleaning  the  last,  I  heard  a  gun  not  more  tha.;  two  hue  Ired 
yards  from  me.  I  knew  that  I  had  advanced  nearer  to  the  fron- 
tier of  the  Sioux  than  any  Ojibbeway,  and  I  did  not  believe  there 
were  any  of  the  latter  tribe  living  near  me.  1  therefore  bc'Vved 
this  must  be  the  f?un  of  a  Sioux,  and  immediately  called  out  o 
him,  as  1  sujjposed  he  must  have  heard  my  tiring ;  but  ko  an- 
swer was  returned.  I  watched  about  me  more  anxiously  than 
before,  and  at  the  ap])roach  of  night  stole  toward  home  as  silent- 
ly and  as  cautiously  as  I  could.  On  the  f(dlowing  day,  I  ven- 
tured to  examine  in  the  direction  of  the  place  where  I  had  heard 
the  gun,  and  found  the  tracks,  which  proved  to  be  those  of  an 
Ojibbeway,  who  had  fired  upon  a  bear  which  he  was  pursuing, 
probably  with  too  much  eagerness  to  hear  me  call.  Soon  after 
this,  I  found  many  tracks,  and  ascertained  that  I  was  not  far  dis- 
tant from  a  place  where  the  Ojiiibeways  had  built  and  fortified  a 
camj).  Three  times  I  received  messages  fr  to  the  chiefs  of  the 
band  living  in  this  camp,  stating  that  my  s,'  '  lon  was  too  ex- 
posed and  dangerous,  and  urging  me  to  come  in.  I  disliked  to 
live  in  a  crowded  place,  and  it  was  not  until  I  discovered  the 
fracks  of  some  Sioux,  that  had  been  n  i-onnoitering  my  camt^ 


s    ' 


4^  **. 


.4  •     f 


i' 


tannkr's  narrative. 

that  I  (Iptermiiipd  to  lly  into  this  work.  The  ni^ht  before  my 
(h'(»arliirc,  uan  one,  at  my  lodfre,  of  terror  and  alarm,  greater  even 
than  is  conunonly  iVIi  ainonir  the  Indians.  I  had  mentioned  tlir 
tracks  tliat  I  had  se«>n,  and  I  did  not  doul)t  tliat  a  |)sirty  oi  llie  Si- 
onx  were  in  my  immediate  n*'iy:liliourhood,  ai\d  wouKl  fall  ni>oii 
me  hefore  mornin)r.  More  than  lialf  the  iii^ht  had  jmssed,  and 
not  one  of  us  had  slept,  when  we  heard  a  sudden  riishinu;  wilhoiil, 
and  our  do^rs  came  runnin>r  in  in  e\  iihiil  alarm,  i  tohl  my  ihil 
dren  that  the  time  was  come  for  us  all  to  die  lojidluT.  I  jdaced 
myselt  in  the  front  part  of  mv  lod^e,  an<i  raisiii^r  the  door  a  little. 
put  out  the  muzzle  of  my  ^un,  and  sat  in  momentary  ex|u>elation 
of  the  approach  of  the  enemy.  K(»otsleps  were  distinctly  audi 
ble :  hut  the  ni^hl  hein^  dark,  I  could  as  yet  see  iiothin<r.  Ai 
length  a  little  hiack  ohject,  not  larger  in  appearand'  than  a  man's 
head,  came  slowly  and  «lirectly  towards  my  lodge,  litre  agaii. 
1  experien<ed  how  much  tear  iidliiences  the  power  of  sight ;  foi 
this  little  ohject,  as  it  came  near,  seemed  at  oiw  instant  to  shoui 
up  to  the  height  of  a  man.  and  at  the  next,  to  he  no  larger  tliaii 
it  really  was.  When  I  was  tiitirely  convinced  that  it  wa«  nothini; 
but  a  small  animal,  I  stepped  out,  and  limiing  it  to  Ix*  a  porcii 
|)iiie,  killed  it  with  a  tom.diawk  ;  the  remainder  of  the  night  wn- 
spent  in  the  same  itutimer  as  the  heginning.  Karly  next  morn 
ing,  1  lletl  to  the  fortified  camp,  (hi  my  arrival,  the  chiefs  coiin 
eilled,  and  sent  two  young  men  to  look  after  the  property  left  iii 
uiy  lodoe  ;  hut  as  I  knew  the  Simix  wer«'  lurking  in  thai  direr 
lion,  and  that,  slhuild  the  yoiiiii;  men  he  killed,  or  injured,  theii 
friends  would  <'(/iisider  me  the  caus«'  of  t!ieir  mislortime,  I  wein 
hefore  ihem,  hut  )i\  a  circuitous  route,  determining  that  if  an 
tiling  happened,  I  would  lie  present,  uml  have  a  part  in  it.  I 
found  my  lodge  safe,  and  we  experienced  no  molestation  in  n 
moving  in\   liai>i>ai>e  to  the  tort. 

The  Sioux,  Iroiii  lime  lo  lime,  came  near  and  looked  at  imi 
work,  hut  never  ventured  toaltack  it.  When  the  spring  arri\iil. 
all  the  Ojihlicwavs  left  it  in  one  da)  ;  hiil  I  whs  roiiipelled  to  n 
main,  liavinu  taken  <  liarge  of  some  packs  for  a  trader  who  u.i- 
then  uliseiit,  and  which  I  could  not  reinov<'.  The  (hiels  irmini 
slraled,  telling  me  it  was  little  heller  ihaii  throwing  mvself  auiiv. 
lU  rRiiiain,  an  the  Sioux  would  immediately  know  when  the  iiiuin 
hodv  left,  ami  would  not  looe   the  upportuiiitv  of  falling  on  mi 


.  • 


t 


IANNKR'k    NAKRATIVi.. 


101 


[ore  my 
tcr  even 
>n«tl  the 
i'  the  Si- 

r  wilhnul, 
1  ,uy  ••!\il- 
I  jih»c<'<i 
„ui»  liuh'. 
sju'itiUioii 

jelly  «"•'' 
tliinst-      '^'^ 
•an  H  ini"»'' 
[l.rf  auaii' 

ml  U<  shoot 
laijrcr  tluiii 
was  nolliin;; 
hi'  tt  |>t»n(i 
le  ni^ht  was 
iifxl  morn 
,hu  fs  ntuii 
.p.  rly  l«t»  ii 
u   iluil  (Urtt 
iiitirnU  tlifii 
luur.  I  Wfii' 
lliul  if  itn 
Hill  in   it-     ' 
iiiliiin  ill  I' 


when  I  should  1)P  h'ft  ah>nt'.  The  sailiUniiiij  anil  aliirnung  t'ffect 
of  llu'sc  ailnionilions  was  somewhat  inrn-ascil  by  the  many  in- 
stances they  relali'ii  of  nun,  wonu  ii,  and  chiUlren,  tlial  iiad  been 
kilhMl  on  this  very  spot  by  the  ^Si()ll.\,  but  I  was  eonipeMed  to  re- 
main. At  nifjhll  closed  the  entranees  to  the  eanip  as  eHeetually 
as  I  could,  ami  cautioning  my  family  to  remain  entirely  silent,  I 
stationed  myself  by  the  wall  to  watch.  The  nijrht  was  but  little 
advanced,  when  by  tlie  liuhl  of  the  moun,  which  then  slume 
bri^fhlly,  I  discovered  two  nu  n,  who  came  directly  towards  the 
usual  entraiH'e,  and  findiiiL'  it  closed,  beijan  to  walk  ar<»und  and 
look  at  the  wall.  Fear  slronjily  prompted  me  to  shoot  then» 
uilhout  liailiiifj;  but  recidleclinjr  liuit  they  mif^ht  not  be  Sioux, 
I  took  an  opportunity,  when  I  could  aim  my  ^un  directly  at 
till  I)  without  Ix'in^  mu<-li  exposed,  and  called  out.  They  proved 
to  be  the  trader  cm  whose  account  I  had  stayed  back,  and  a 
Frenchman.  1  gladly  opened  my  fort  to  let  them  in,  and  with 
tlii-;  aildition  of  streujrih,  spent  a  pretty  (juiet  nijiht.  Next  morn- 
in>r  we  moved,  taking  the  trader's  packs,  and  following  the  path 
of  the  Ojibbeways. 

I  did  not  wish  to  rejoin  this  band,  but  went  t«)  live  for  .some 
linu'.  I)y  myself,  in  the  woods;  alterwards  I  joined  sonu*  lied 
Kiver  Ojibbeways,  under  a  chief  called  He-gwa-is,  (he  thai  cut-; 
up  the  beaver  lodge.)  All  the  hunters  ol  this  liaud  bad  lieen  for 
r'oine  days  trying  to  kill  an  old  buck  moose,  who  had  become  no- 
torious among  them  lor  his  shyness  and  cunniug.  'i'he  first  day 
that  1  went  to  hunt,  I  saw  this  moose,  but  could  uol  kill  him;  I 
liowever  killed  auotluM',  and  next  da\  retiiriu'd  to  the  piusuit. 
with  the  full  determiualion  lo  kill  him  if  possible.  It  so  hap- 
pened, that  the  weaiher  and  wind  were  favourable,  and  I  kiMeil 
the  l)uck  moose.  My  siieri-ss  was  attributable,  in  a  great  measure. 
t<i  ai'cident,  or  lo  circinnstances  beyond  my  eonlr(d  ;  but  (he  In- 
dians gave  me  credit  lor  "upenor  skill,  and  I  was  thenceforth 
rprknned  the  best  hunter  in  that  hand. 

We  now  started,  twelve  men  in  number,  under  Be-gwa-is,  to  go 
to  the  Sioux  rountrv,  lo  hunt  beaver,  leax  inir  our  women  beliind. 
O'l  this  hunt  nil  tlie  Imlians  became  snow-blinil,  mid  I  being  the 
otdy  <me  able  lo  hunt,  fed  and  took  <iire  of  (hem  for  si-veral  days. 
Ah  soon  as  the  snow  went  ofl'  in  the  spring,  ihcy  hegnn  In  grt 
*irlt»»r.     We  then  separated  iiiio  three  portimt ;  one,  of  whirh  hr. 

21 


Irt'^ 


lANNKR  S    \AUI!A1I\  K. 


!'  ■» 


•■1 


•f 


/  . 


« 


l.i 


ingtbnr  in  mimlicr,  wont  to  BiilUiloc  River,  wlu'rc  tliey  were  at- 
tacked by  the  Sijtiix.  hi'd  one  niaii  killed,  and  another  wounded 
nnd  ni;ide  prisoner. 

I  had  Avounded  myself  l>y  aecideni,  in  niy  aneie  hone,  with  a 
lomahaAvk,  and  heranie,  in  ('onseipienee,  unable  to  travel  last. 
About  this  time  my  eoinpanions  iie(  ame  |)aine  struck,  si  _'|)osin» 
ijie  Sioux  to  be  near  us,  and  on  our  trail.  They  paid  not  the  least 
i'eptrd  to  my  situation,  but  lied  with  all  llu'  speed  they  ccndd 
make.  It  was  now  early  in  the  s|)rinij: ;  rain  and  snow  had  been 
tallinij  throu}fhout  the  day,  and  at  night  the  uinil  be^an  to  l)l<^\\ 
I'rom  the  north-west,  aiul  the  water  to  iree/e.  I  lollowed  my 
co;,  pan'Oiis,  thouirh  ,\\  a  (li>liin( c.  and  came  up  with  them  late  ai 
)iiy;ht,  when  1  lound  them  peiishin!>  in  their  c(un)orlless  cau\p : 
ihey  being  the  disciples  ot'tlie  propliet.  and  not  havinjr  ventured 
to  .'Strike  a  lire.  Wa-mo-ffon-a-biew  was  (uie  of  these  men,  and 
?ie,  as  well  as  the  rest  oC  them,  was  wiiliutr  to  desert  nw.  when- 
ever there  was  any  appreliension  ol'  dauirer.  Next  morning  ice 
was  stronir  eiunifrh  in  the  ri>er  to  walk  upon,  and  as  this  cold 
had  been  preceded  by  warm  weather,  we  siillercMl  severely.  We 
>pent  lour  days  at  the  sugar  camp  of  our  women,  ami  then  started 
to  retin-n  to  the  Sioux  country.  On  our  way  we  met  the  two  whd 
had  escaped,  of  the  party  on  which  the  Sioux  had  lalleii.  Their 
appearaiu'e  was  that  o|  extreme  misery  aiul  sUirvation. 

We  met  also,  in  this  jotirney,  an  American  trader,  whose  nurm 
I  do  not  now  recollect.  l)Ul  m  ho  treated  me  with  nnich  allenlion. 
and  ur<;ed  me  to  leave  the   Indians  and   return   with  him  to  tin 
Stales.     But  I  was  poor.  Inuiiiu  lew  pellries  ol  any  value  ;   I  hail 
also  a  wife  and  om-  i  liild.      Me  told  me  the  governmenl,  and  tin 
])eo|>le  of  the  Tnited  Stales.  w(i\dd  be  generous  lo  iiU',  and  he  liiiii 
s(>lf  |)ron)ise<|    to  ri  ii(h'r  n\e  all   the  aid  in    his  power;  but   I  dr- 
clined  acceptin0   his  odir.  |)rel'erring  for  llie  present    to  remain 
amonir  the  Indians,  ihouijrh  it  was  still  my  w  isli  and  intention,  ul- 
timately lo  Ic.ive  them.      I  heard  fnun  this  man,  llmt  Hoiiie  of  rn, 
relations  had  l)een  as  far  as  Mackinac  in  search  of  me,  and  I  dir- 
taled  a  letter  to  them,  which  this  gentleman  undert(*ok  to  hiu 
eon\eyed   toils  destiiuition.      Whm  about   to  part   from  ns,  lie 
gave  lo  VVn-in«'-g(Hi-a-birw  nnd  myself,  each  a  bark  <  unuc,  ami 
some  oilier  valuable  presmts. 

\s  we  were  iravollinir  townrili*  Red  River,  our  principal  in«" 


..>■. 


V 


I  ANNKK'>     S  auk  a  IiV  I. 


)o;{ 


/eve  at- 
oundcd 

,  with  a. 
vol   fast. 
•iHtsing 
llic  liHist 
(.y   could 
htul  tii't'i* 
„  to  l)l<-w 
lowc<»  my 
iMU  lait'  lU 
ess  «'ami)  ■■ 
|r  vtntured 
i-  nuMi.  anil 
lUf.  Avlu-n- 
loi-ninii;  !<■'■ 
,s  this  «-»>l'> 
iTfly.    We 
i\w\\  slartoil 
Uii-  two  \\\w 
lien.     Tlu-ir 

111. 

uliost!  iiami 

,li  utimtioii. 

1  him  to  lli< 

|v;il»u- ;  \  1'"'* 

Kill,  ami  lilt 

,  iukI  hr  him 

L;  hm  \  'l*"- 

L    to  rt'inuiii 

inlfiilion,  "1 

[t  SOllU'  »>t  '"' 

inc.  ■A\\*\  1  "iif- 
[ilook  ti»  hiiu 
\\  tVoin  "I*.  ^'* 
k  <ttnoc,  8U*^ 

l)rinri|»»\  '""'' 


Wv-ong-je-cheweon,  to  whom  wo  liad  roitimillcd  ilu diroctiou  oi 
our  party,  became  alarmed.     We  wcrr   iidlowinii  a   lony    iiv«'i 
which  discharges  into  lied  River;  1  saw  liiiii  anxiously  looKinii 
about,  on  one  side  and  tbe  other,  and  atteniivolv  watcliiiii;  lor  alt 
lliose  indications  of  tbe   jiroxiinity  of'  men,   wliicli  could  be  al- 
ibrded   by  the  tracks  of  animals,  tbe  Hitrlit  of  birds,  and  otber 
marks,  which   they  so  well   know  bovi   t(t    iinderstaMd.      lie  said 
nollnn>(  of  fear:  an  Indian  in  such  cii'cunislancrs.  rarely,  if  cm  r, 
does.      liut  when  he  saw  me,  at  niaht,  IryiuL'^  to  kiudU'  a  lire  for 
our  encampment,  he  rose  up,  wrapped  bis  blanket  alxuil  him,  and 
without  sayuiir  a  word,  walkeil  away.   I  watched  him  until  i  saw 
liim  select  a  place,  combininif   (he  re<piisile.s   for   the  entire  C(ui- 
cealment  of  his  person,  and  atfordini;  biui  tin    power  of  overlonk- 
inff  a  considerable  extent  otCouiitrv.   KnowiuL^  llie  motive  which 
had  occasioned  this,  I  followed    his  evampie.  a-;  diil   the   remain- 
ing  men  of  mu'    pariy.      Nevt    mornini;  we  met.  and  ventured 
(o  kindle  a  lire  to  prepare  a  little  breakliist.     Oin-  kettle  was  bin 
(list  bnn^  over  the  tire  and  (illed.  when  we  dis<'overed  the  Sioux, 
fui  a  point  not  half  a  mile  behind  us.      We  da-ihed   the  content^ 
(»f  the  kettle  mi   the  lire,  and   lied.       \t  <ome  di'  aiice  beiou.  we 
built  a  stronjr  «'am|).  nnd  I  set  my  traps. 

Amonir  the  presents  I  had  received  tVom  the  Xniericaii  trader, 
was  n  small  keg  «'(Mitainini>  i\t( en  ipiarts  oi  sinuig  rum.  which  I 
liad  brought  thus  far  on  my  back.  \Va-me-u(>n-a-lii<'w  and  the 
other  Indians  had  often  hegnred  me  for  a  taste  of  it.  which  I  had 
constantly  refused:  tellinir  them  the  I'bl  men.  and  the  ihiel-*.  and 
;dl,  should  taste  it  toufelher,  «  hen  we  reaeheil  home.  Itiit  iion 
tliey  look  an  oppiniimity  when  I  wa*  ab-;ent  to  look  at  m\  trap-, 
tu  optui  it;  and  when  I  retnnied.  I  found  them  ,dl  dnnik,  and 
qiiarrtdlimi  with  each  other.  I  vvasauare  ol  mir  ilangermis  and 
exposed  situ.ition.  and  felt  wniiiewbat  alarmed,  when  I  fonnd  >o 
many 'd' us  totally  disabled  by  intoxication.  I  tried,  how«\er,  to 
quiet  their  n<dse  :  but  in  so  doinir,  I  endauL'ered  mv  own  safetv 
As  I  held  two  of  them  apart,  otu'  in  one  band,  the  other  in  the 
Other,  the  third,  an  old  man,  came  behind  and  made  a  thrust  ai 
my  bai'k  with  a  knife,  which  I  virv  narrow  K  avoided.  They 
were  all  alii onted,  as  I  had  reproached  them  w  ith  cowardice  : 
trlliiig  them  they  prcfern'd  remaininL^  like  rabbits,  in  their  hide, 
and  darod  nei liter  vontiirr  out  lo  iruuirainst  their  enemies,  or  even 


r  • 


I  i      4 


■  I 


m\  [ 


164 


1ANNEK3    NAUKATIH,. 


to  liiint  (in-  pomcthinfr  to  rat.  In  fact,  I  had  for  some  time  icd 
and  supporter!  tluin,  and  I  was  not  a  little  vexed  at  their  foolish- 
ness. We  had,  however,  no  more  alarms  immediately,  and  the 
Indians  at  length  venturing  to  hunt,  we  met  with  so  mueh  success 
as  nearly  to  load  one  canoe  with  skins.  The  remainder  of  my 
little  cask  of  rmn,  which  I  had  used  great  care  to  keep  out  of  their 
way,  caused  them  one  more  drunken  frolick,  they  having  stolen 
it  in  my  absence. 

After  we  had  completed  our  hunt,  we  started  down  together. 
Approaching  Red  River,  we  heard  great  numbers  of  guns  befr  re 
us,  and  my  companions,  sujiposiiiir  them  to  be  those  of  the  Sioux, 
left  me  and  (led  across  land,  in  which  way  tliey  could  reach  home 
in  less  than  a  day.  As  i  was  determined  not  to  abandon  our 
property  in  the  canoe,  I  continued  on  by  myself,  and  in  about 
four  days,  arrived  safely  at  home. 

The  Indians  were  now  about  assembling  at  Pembinab,  to  dis- 
pose of  their  peltries,  and  have  tJH'ir  usual  drunken  frolick.  f 
had  but  just  arrived  at  the  encampment  of  our  band,  when  they 
began  to  start;  some  going  forward  by  land,  ami  leaving  the 
women  to  i)ring  on  their  loads  in  the  canoes.  I  tried  to  persuade 
Wn-mc-iroii-a-biew  and  ollii  rs,  which  were  particularly  mv 
friends,  not  to  join  in  this  toolisb  and  destructive  indulgence,  but 
1  could  not  prevail  \\\ui\\  them;  they  all  w«'nt  on  in  advance  of 
me.  I  moved  slowly  along,  hunting  and  making  dry  meat,  and 
did  not  reach  Pcmbiuah,  until  most  of  the  men  of  the  hand  had 
passeil  several  days  there  in  drinking.  As  soon  as  I  arrived, 
some  Indians  came  to  tell  me  that  Wa-me-gcm-a-biew  had  lost 
jiis  nose;  another  had  a  large  piece  bitten  out  of  his  cheek;  one 
was  injured  in  (me  way,  another  in  another. 

I  learned  that  my  br(»lher,  as  I  always  called  Wa-nie-gon-a- 
biew,  had  but  just  arrived,  when  he  happened  to  go  into  a  lodge. 
where  a  young  man,  a  son  of  Ta-bush-shish,  was  beating  an  old 
woman.  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  held  his  arms  ;  but  presently  old  Ta- 
bush-shish  coming  in,  and  in  his  drunkenness,  probably  misappre- 
hending the  nature  of  my  brother's  interference,  seized  him  by 
the  hair,  and  bit  his  nose  off.  At  this  stage  of  tin'  affair,  Be-gwa- 
is,  an  old  chief  who  had  always  been  very  friendly  to  us,  came  in, 
and  seeing  that  a  scuffle  was  going  on,  thought  it  necessary  to 
join  in  it.     Wa-me-gon-a-biew  perceiving  the  loss  of  his  nose. 


»1f  '•, 


t 


lAwr.R's  XAnuATivi;. 


106 


mc  led 
ioolish- 
iiid  the 

SllCCCSS 

:  of  iny 
of  their 
5  atolen 

oRother. 
,s  bef'  re 
le  Sioux, 
uh  home 
ndon  our 
in  about 

lb,  to  Jis- 
rohck.     I 
,vheu  they 
•avina;  th<' 
i»  persuade. 
»\larly   my 
l(ren<'e,  but 
idvaiice  of 
uieat,  and 
band  had 
arrived, 
w  had  lost 
\eek;  one 

-me-gon-a- 
ito  a  h)dge. 
ling  an  ohl 
ily  o\d  Tu- 
niisapprc- 
zed  him  by 
r,  Be-gwa- 
u«,  came  in, 
iccHHary  to 
f  his  nohe. 


suddenly  raised  his  hands,  though  still  slooping  his  head,  am! 
seizing  by  tlic  hair  the  head  that  was  nearest  him,  bit  the  noso 
off.  (t  happened  to  l)e  that  of  our  friend  He-ir\va-is.  After  his 
rage  had  a  little  abated,  he  recognized  his  friend,  and  exclaimed, 
"  wall !  my  cousin  !"  Be-g\va-is  was  a  kind  and  good  man,  and 
being  perfectly  aware  of  the  erroneous  impression  ui\der  which 
Wa-me-gon-a-!»iew  had  acted,  never  for  one  moment  betrayed 
nnv  thing  like  anjrer  or  resfntinent,  unvards  the  man  who  had 
thus  been  tlx'  unwilling  cause  of  his  nnitilation.  "  I  am  an  old 
man,"  said  he,  "and  it  is  but  a  short  lime  that  they  will  laugh  at 
me  for  the  loss  of  my  nose." 

For  my  own  part,  I  felt  much  irritated  against  Ta-bush-shish, 
inasmuch  as  1  doubled  whetht'r  he  had  not  taken  the  present  op- 
|)(trlunity  to  wreak  an  oM  grudge  upon  \Va-me-gon-a-biew.  I 
u  ent  into  my  brother's  lodge,  and  sat  by  him ;  his  face,  and  all 
his  clothes,  were  covered  with  blood.  For  some  lime  he  said 
nothing  ;  and  when  he  spoke,  I  found  that  he  was  perfectly  sober. 
■'To-morrow,"  said  he,  "I  will  cry  wiih  my  children,  and  the 
next  day  I  will  go  and  seeTH-bush-shish.  We  must  die  together, 
;is  I  am  not  willing  to  live,  when  I  must  always  expect  to  be  ridi- 
culed." 1  told  him  I  would  join  him  in  any  attempt  to  kill  Ta- 
bush-shish,  and  held  myself  in  readiness  accordingly.  Ihit  a  little 
■sober  reflection,  and  the  day's  time  he  had  given  himself  to  cr\ 
with  his  chihlren,  diverted  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  from  his  bloody 
intention,  and  like  Be-gwa-is,  he  res»)lved  to  bear  his  loss  as  well 
;is  he  could. 


.?:, 


m 


r** 


i 


MHOi 


KrtM 


JH6 


TANNER  «    NATinATIVE. 


CIIAPTEH  X. 

Prcsfncp  ol'  mind  and  eplf-dcviilfdnr«.s  in  an  Indian  motlipr — Indian  warlarc — 
convi  rsiiliciM  111  a  cliict' — winlt'r  hunt  uii  tin'  lii'mviouuskn  Uivc  r — Mi'  dii'ini- 
hnniinL' — cuslmris,  in  fuse-;  ot  nianslaiisilitcr — sunlu'lir,  iir  |ii>'tnrp  writing — 
death  oi' I'l'-slianUi — ilisasl.T  at  Spirit  l.alir,  and  doath  ol'tiu'  Littjp  C'lain. 

Within  a  lew  days  alter  lliis  ilniiikcn  (jiiarrcl,  Ta-l)nsli-shisli 
was  spizt'd  uitli  a  violnil  sirkm  ss.  He  Iml  (or  many  flays  a 
biirnina  I'l'Vcr.  his  llc^li  wasu'd.  ainl  lie  was  a|>|)ari'iiily  near  tly- 
ilij^,  vvlu'ii  lie  sent  •(•  \Va-inc-Lf<>!i-a-l>i('\v  tun  kclllfs.  and  otlirr 
])r('S('iiI-<.  ul"  coiisidf  lahlc  v  diii .  uilli  a  nMssair*'.  "  !My  iViriid,  f 
liaM'   made  von   look  nirlv.  and  \(iii  iiaxc  made  ine  sick.      I  hiivc 


siitrcrrd    iniK  li,  and    il 


ilic    now  mv  V 


hild 


rt'U  mils 


t  sill) 


»'r  m 


iicli 


more      I  have  sent  yon  this   |ir<scnl,  I'lal  yon  inav  let  inr  live." 
\V'a-nif-Lfon-a-hi(\v  instrnclcd    his  mcssfnL'f'r  to  say  to  'I'a-hn-^li 


^liish.  ••  I  ha\r  not  made  \on  siik. 


cannot  rcslort'  von 


to  h<  alth. 


;tnd  will  not  arcc|il  yonr  presents."      He  liiiirprctl  lor  a  monili  oi 
more   in  a   >ial<'  of  -^nr  li  severe  illness,  that  his  hair  nil  Cell  Iroiii 


IIS  head 


All 


(■r   Illl^ 


lie  t)ec; 


in  to  aintMid,  and  when  he  was  near 


\  \\> 


II. 


renin\e(|  io  the  prairie;   Iml    were  scaKeredal 


)otir 


in  dilli'ieni  dire(  lions,   and    at  consideruhle  distances  iVoin  eacli 
olher. 

Alter  oin-  spritiir  ImnliDjir,  we  hriran   Io  think  of  iroinsi  aiiain 


the  Si 


lonv.  and  an  inconsiderahl  •  party  asseinhled.  anion!/  Ilmsi 
who  lived  iinmediateh  ahoiil  mr.  Wa-me-fion-a-liiew  and  I  ac 
etnnpaniel  them,  and  in  loni  days  we  ;irrived  at  l!ie  htllo  \illai;. 
wlicri"  'I'li-hnsh-shish    then    lived.      Helore   oiir   arriial    here  mi 


)ia.l  I 


)een 


joiiH'd   liy  NV'a-ufe-loie,  with    ^ixh   men. 


A I 


ter  we  liml 


rested  and  eaten  at  oin'  encampment  netir  Ta-luish-shish's  lodm'. 
and  Mere  ahoni  Io  start,  we  saw  him  come  oul  naked,  hut  p.ainl- 
0(1  and  ornamented  asfma  war,  iiiid  haviiii;  his  arms  in  his  haini- 
Hp  rnme  slalkinu  up  to  ns  with  a  very  anjjry  face,  hut  none  ni 
ii«  fullv  comprehended   his   desijrn.  nnlil   we  saw  him  no  up  hiiI 


tanner's    NARKATlVi:. 


167 


warlart'^ — 
-lU'Jii'ino 

w  riling— 

(.'lam. 

lish-sliisll 
V  ilays  ii 

near  ily- 
ainl  titlin 

tVit'inK  t 
i.     I  lvav( 
ilVt-r  imi<l> 
,  ine  livi'." 
,  Ta-biisli- 
1  to  h(  alth. 

I  monlli  oi 

II  itll  Innii 
wasnrai- 
rcd  aliniu 
'iMMii  fa<!i 


I.    afiaiii-' 

Ollif    tllOSl 

,inil  I   I'- 
1.-  \ill;i- 

•  r  \\v  tiiiii 
ll's  IdiIu'  ■ 
hut  |;a'nii- 
his  hallll^ 
)Ut  none  t»l 

1  ;r(»    U|)  Hlv' 


III 


j)ri*!«Piu  the  muzzle  of  liis  jriin  to  Wa-inc-gon-a-bicw's  bark. 
"  My  liioiid,"  said  he,  "we  liavc  lived  loiitr  <'iiou^l.,  and  liave 
o-jvi'ii  trouble  and  distress  enougli  to  each  oiher.  I  sent  to  you 
my  renuest  tliat  yon  would  be  satisfied  wilh  tbe  siekn<  s.i  and 
pain  you  had  made  me  sulier,  but  you  refused  to  listen  lo  me; 
and  the  evils  you  continue  to  iiilliet  on  me,  rendei-  my  life  \v(  ari- 
souie ;  let  us  therefore  die  toirether."  A  snn  of  \Vii-ir<-tcte, 
and  another  youn>f  man,  seeing  ilie  intention  nf  'ra-bush-slnsli, 
piesented  the  point  of  their  spe.ns,  (jne  lo  one  o;  his  sides,  the 
Othei-  to  the  other;  but  lie  look  no  O'liici;  ol"  tiuui,  Wa-uie- 
iron-a-biew  w.is  iiilimidated,  and  d.ueil  nol  rai>e  Ins  head.  Ta- 
tiush-shish  wished  to  have  foiii:hl,  ami  to  have  ^iven  NVa-me-gon- 
a-hiew  an  equal  ehanee  for  his  lite,  but  the  latter  had  nol  enura^c 
enough  to  accept  his  oiler.  Henceforth  1  esieemed  Wa-me-gon- 
a-biew  less  even  than  I  had  formerly  done,  lie  had  less  of 
bravery  and  generosity  in  his  disposition  than  is  (onmion  among 
the  Indians.  iN'-ilh  .  Ta-bu.^h-shish  nor  any  of  his  band  joined 
in  our  war-party. 

We  went  on,  wandering  about  from  place  to  place,  and  instead 
of  going  against  our  enemies,  spent  tin;  greater  part  ol  the  sum- 
mer among  the  l)nlIiiloe.  In  the  fall,  i  returned  to  Pend)inah. 
my  intention  being  to  go  thence  to  lln'  winiciiiig  iiromid  ot  tlie 
trailer  :ibove  menti'»i\ed,  who  had  proposed  to  assist  me  in  mtiing 
to  the  slates.  I  Uiiw  heard  of  the  wai' heluci  n  th<'  I  niieu  States 
an>'i  (ireat  Hrilain.  and  of  the  <'a|>lure  of  Mackinac,  aiiil  ihis  in- 
telligence deleiri'd  me  from  anyain  mpl  In  pa«;s  ihrongh  the  fron- 
tier of  the  I'nited  States  territory,  which  were  then  ihe  scenes  of 
warliki-  operations. 

In  the  ensuing  spring,  there  was  a  very  sreneral  movement 
among  the  Ojibbeways  of  the  Ited  lliver.  toward  llie  Sioux  coun- 
try ;  but  the  (iesi<iii  was  not,  at  least  avowdly,  lo  liiii  upon  or 
molest  the  Sioux,  but  to  hunt.  I  oavelled  in  <omi>any  w  illi  u 
lar^e  band,  unde;  the  diieclMui  of  \is-aiiise.  (ilie  lillle  clam.) 
Hi-<  l>rolher,  called  Wa-ge-lonc.  was  a  ;i.im  of  considerable  con- 
seipicnce.  W'c  had  ascended  Ked  Hiver  about  one  hundred 
miles,  when  we  met  Mr.  Ilaiiie.  a  trader,  who  gave  u-  a  liltie 
rum.  I  lived,  at  this  time,  in  a  long  lodg*',  having  two  !>••  three 
fires,  and  i  occupied  it  in  common  wilh  several  olher  men,  with 
tlieir  fanulics,  ni(»sllv  the  relatives  of  mv  wil'c.      ft  w«>  inidni:>hl. 


'rfr    ^?**iM-"*J^ 


1i 

\ 

1 

1 

Uh 

'i 

i. 

!  1 

\ 
1  ' 

•  i« 


S" 


Ij 


168 


TANNEK's    NAKKATIVt. 


or  after,  and  I  was  sleeping  in  my  lodge,  when  I  was  waked  by 
some  man  seizing  me  roughly  by  the  hand,  and  raising  nie  up. 
There  was  still  a  little  fire  Inirning  in  the  lodge,  and  hy  the  light 
it  gave  I  recognised,  in  the  angry  and  threatening  eounlenancc 
whieh  hung  over  me,  the  lace  of  Wa-ge-lone,  the  brother  of  the 
Little  Clam,  our  principal  chief.  "  1  have  solemnly  |)romised," 
said  he,  "that  if  you  should  come  with  us  to  this  country,  you 
should  not  live ;  up,  therefore,  and  be  ready  to  answer  me.'" 
He  then  went  on  to  Wah-zhe-gwun,  the  man  who  slept  next  me, 
and  used  to  him  similar  insolent  and  threatening  language  ;  but. 
by  this  time,  an  old  man,  a  relative  of  mine,  called  Mah-nuge, 
who  slept  beyond,  had  comprehended  the  purport  of  his  visit, 
and  raised  himself  up,  with  his  knife  in  his  hanil.  When  Wa- 
ge-tone came  to  him,  he  received  a  sharp  answer.  He  then  re- 
turned to  me,  drew  his  knife,  and  thre;(tened  me  with  instant 
death.  "  You  are  a  stranger,"  said  i.:-,  "and  one  of  many  who 
have  come  from  a  distant  "^vniry,  to  feed  yourself  and  your  chil- 
dren with  that  which  doc.N  not  belong  to  you.  You  arc  driven 
out  from  your  own  country,  and  you  come  among  us  because  you 
are  too  feeble  and  worthless  to  have  a  home  or  a  country  ot 
your  own.  Y(»u  have  visited  our  best  hunting  grounds,  and 
wherever  you  have  been  you  have  destroyed  all  the  animab 
which  the  (Jreat  Spirit  gave  us  for  our  sustenance.  (Jo  back, 
therefore,  from  this  place,  and  be  no  longer  a  burthen  to  us,  or  I 
will  certaiidy  take  your  life."  1  answered  him,  that  I  was  not 
going  to  llu-  country  ue  were  iniw  about  to  visit,  particularly  to 
hunt  beaver,  but  that  even  if  I  were  to  do  so,  I  had  an  ecpial 
riohi  with  him,  and  was  as  stnnig  to  maintain  that  right.  Tin- 
dispute  was  becoming  s(»mewhat  noisy,  when  (dd  Mah-nuge 
came  iij),  with  his  kriif<'  in  his  hand,  and  drove  the  noisv  and 
h.ilfdnniken  Wa-ge-tone  out  of  the  lodge.  We  saw  this  man 
no  m<M-e  for  a  long  time,  but  his  brother,  the  Little  Clam,  told  u- 
(o  think  nothing  of  what  he  said. 

Here  a  niesseiiirer  overtoitk  us  to  bring  to  the  Ottawwaws  llu 
informalion  that  Mid\-kud-da-l)e-na-sa,  (the  black  bird,)  an  Ot- 
tawwaw  of  Waw-giui-uk-ke-zie,  or  I/Arbre  Croche,  had  arrived 
from  Lake  Huron,  to  call  us  ail  home  to  that  country.  So  wc 
turned  back,  anil  one  after  another  fell  back,  till  Wa-ge-tone  only 
n-as  left,  and  he  went  on  and  joined  a  war-party  ol"  Ojibbewayt 


Jng  to 


♦  Gah 
straw.') 
I'lunts,  shr 


tawf.r's  narrativk. 


16d 


iked  by 
me  lip- 
he  light 
ilenaiu'c 
■r  of  the 
jmiHetl," 
itry,  you 
■er   me.'" 
next  me, 
Lgc ;  but, 
iah-miy;e, 
his  visit, 
-hen  Wa- 
e  then  re- 
i\\  instant 
nany  «lu> 
your  ehil- 
are  driven 
■cause  you 
c«nmtry  »tt 
junds,  and 
.he  aniniaW 
do  hark, 
to  lis.  or  I 
1    was  not 
licularly  to 
(1  an  eijual 
jrht.      Thi- 
Mah-nuiTi' 
noisy  auil 
w  this  num 
him,  tohl  u- 


llien  starting  I'rom  Leerh  Lake.  A  part  ol"  this  baud  stoppi'd  at 
the  Wild  Rice  River,*  and  went  into  the  Corl,  or  fortified  camp 
before  mentioned.  Here  they  began  to  hunt  and  trap,  and  were 
heedlessly  dispersed  about,  when  a  large  party  of  tSioux  came 
into  their  neighbourhood. 

Ais-ainse,  the  Ojibheway  chief,  returned  one  evening  from  a 
successful  hunt,  having  killed  two  elks;  and  on  the  following 
jnorning,  his  wife,  with  her  young  son,  started  out  to  dry  ihe 
meat.  They  had  proceeded  a  great  distance  from  the  lodge, 
when  the  lad  first  discovered  the  Sioux  partVi  at  no  great  dis- 
tance, and  called  out  to  his  mother,  "  the  8ioux  are  coming.'' 
Tlie  old  woman  drew  her  knife,  and  cutting  the  belt  which 
bound  the  boy's  blanket  to  his  body,  told  him  to  run  for  home 
with  all  his  strength.  She  then,  witli  her  knife  in  her  han<l,  ran 
to  meet  theapprtiaching  war-party.  The  boy  heard  many  guns, 
and  the  old  woman  was  no  more  heard  of.  The  boy  ran  long, 
when,  perceiving  that  his  pursuers  were  near,  he  lost  <'«)nscious- 
ness  ;  and  when  he  arrived  at  the  fortifier!  cam]),  still  in  a  state 
of  mental  alienation,  the  Sioux  were  about  one  hundred  and 
fifty  yards  behind  him.  He  vomited  blood  for  some  days,  and 
never  recovered  his  health  and  strength,  thougli  he  lived  about 
one  year  afterwards. 

Several  of  the  ()jibl»cways  were  hunting  in  a  different  direction 
from  that  in  which  the  wife  of  the  Little  Clam  had  met  the  war- 
partv.  As  soon  as  the  Sioux  disappeared  from  about  the  fort, 
young  men  were  sent  out,  who  discovered  that  they  had  taken 
the  path  of  the  hunters,  and  one  or  two,  taki  ig  a  circuitous  di- 
rection, reached  the  Little  Clam  just  as  the  Sioux  were  creeping 
up  to  tire  upon  him.  A  liirht  ensued,  which  lasted  a  long  tin.e, 
without  loss  on  either  side.  At  length,  one  of  the  Ojibbeways 
being  wonnded  in  the  h'H,  his  companions  retired  a  little,  in  order 
to  give  him  an  opportunity  of  escaping  under  cover  of  soma-' 
bushes;  but  this  movement  did  not  escape  the  notice  of  the 
Sioux.  One  of  their  nmnber  followed  the  young  man,  continu- 
ing to  elude  the  notice  of  the  Ojihbeways  while  he  did  so,  killed 

*  Gith  Menoinonif.  gah-vun-zhc-guir-vic  xcr-hci;  (the  river  of  the  wild  rico 
straw.")  (iau'-uuii-jr,  or  guiC'Wun:li,  is  iipplicatilo  tn  tlie  stalks  or  trunks  of  many 
)ilants,  slirubs,  &c.  us  Mrt-iia-gatr-ttungr,  (whortk'ljerry  bu£b|)or,  in  the  plural, 
Meena-gaw-iea-checn.  (whortleberry  bushes.) 


170 


lANNKKS    .NAKKAi'lVb. 


,! 

1 

^P\ 

^ 

^ 

him,  and  took  iiis  sciil|)  Hitd  mrdal,  lie  hpin^  u  favourite  boii  oi' 
Ai.s-aiiiKe,  the  Ojilibcway  chid  :  then  returning,  he  Hhook  ihtHjc 
trophies  at  the  t)jibl)eways,  with  some  exulting  and  vaunting 
words.  The  enraged  lather,  at  sight  of  the  scalp  and  medal, 
rushed  from  his  cover,  shot  down  one  of  the  Sioux,  cut  ofl"  his 
head,  and  shook  it  exultingly  at  the  survivors.  The  other  Ojib- 
heways,  being  emi)oldened  at  this  conduct  of  the  Little  Clara, 
rushed  forward  together,  and  tlie  Sioux  Ihd. 

Another  considerable  man  of  the  Ojibbew  ays,    who  was  also 
named  Ta-bush-shish,  had  becti  hunting  in  a  ditlercnt  direction, 
accomi»Hiiied  by  one  man,  and  had  heard  the  firing,  either  where 
the  old  woman  had  been  killed,  or  where  Ais-ainse  was  fighting, 
and  had  returned   home.     The  Indians  said  of  him,  as,  indeed, 
they  often  say  of  a  man  after  his  death,   that  he   had  some  pre- 
sentiments or  forewarnings  of  what  was  about  to  happen.     On 
ihe  preceding  evening,  he  had  come  home,  as  the  Indian  hunter 
nflen  comes,  to  be  aimoyed  by  the  tongue  of  an  old  wife,  jealous 
of  the  attentions  bestowed  on  a  younger  and  more  attractive  tmc. 
On  this  occasion,  he  said  to  her,  "  Sc(dd  away,  old  woman,  for 
now  I  hear  you  the  last   lime.''     He  was  in  the  fort  when  some 
one  arrived,  who  had  skulked  and  fled  with  the  news  of  the  tight 
(he  Little  Clam   was  engaged  in.     Ta-bush-shish   had  two  fine 
hor8e.s,  and  he  said  to  one  of  his  friends,  "  Be-na,  I  believe  you 
area  man;  will  you  take  one  of  my  horses,  and  go  with  me  to 
see  what  Ais-ainse   has  been  doing  all   day  ?     Shall   we  not  be 
ashamed   to  let   him  light  so  long,    within  hearing,  and  nevei 
attempt  to  give  him  assistance  ?     Here  are  more  than  one  hun- 
dred of  us,  who  have  stood  trembling  within   this  camp,   while 
our  brother  has  been  fighting  like  a  man.   with  only  four  or  five 
young  men  to  assist  him."     They  started,  and  following  a  trail 
of  the  Sioux,  it  brought  them   to  a  place  where  a  party  had  kin- 
dled a  fire,  and  were,  for  a  moment,  resting  themselves  around 
if.     They  crept  up  near,  but  not  thinking  this  a  favourable  op- 
portunity to  fin  .   Ta-bush-shish  and  Be-na  went  forward  on  the 
route  they  knew  the  party  would  jmrsue,  and  laid  theniselve;- 
down  in  the  snow.     It  was  now  night,  but  not  very  dark.    When 
the  Sioux  began  to  move,  and  a  number  of  them  came  near  the 
place  where  they  had  concealed  themselves,  Ta-bush-shish  and 
Be-na  ro«e  up  togethei'.  and  fired  upon  theni<  and  the  latter,  a;- 


^  ■  -i 


tannkh's    SAKHM  I\  I.. 


171 


;  bOll  of 

ik  the«c 
aunting 
1  niediil, 
I  oft'  his 
ler  Ojib- 
le  Clara, 

was  also 
lirection, 
ler  where 
fighting, 
s,  indeed, 
some  i)rc- 
pen.     On 
iin  hunter 
t'e,  jealous 
ictive  one 
M)man,  for 
/hen  some 
)f  the  tiglit 
il  two  fine 
•eheve  you 
ivith  me  to 
we  not  bl- 
and neve  I- 
jii  one  Inm- 
imp,  while 
four  or  five 
wing  a  trail 
ty  had  kin- 
ves  arouiul 
iiurable  op- 
!var«l  on  the 
ihemselve;- 
.rk.    Whtu 
me  near  the 
ih-shish  and 
he  latter,  a>- 


1 


jie  had  been  instructed  \o  do,  iiisfiintly  llid.  When  ;ti  a  consi- 
derable distance,  and  finding  he  \va>i  mil  iiiirr<uiil,  lie  st(>|)i>('d  to 
listen,  and  for  groat  pnrf  of  the  ni/ht  licanl  now  and  linn  a  <j;u\u 
and  sometimes  tli«>  shrill  mid  scdilary  sali-sah-Kwi  of  'I'a-hiisl* 
shish,  shifting  from  place  to  place  ;  at  last,  many  guns  discliarycd 
at  the  same  momeiit;  then  the  shouts  and  whoo|)s  of  ilic  SioiiN 
at  the  fall  of  their  enemy;  then  all  was  silent,  and  lie  leturneil 
home.  These  were  all  that  were  killed  at  that  time,  the  old  wo- 
man, Ta-l»ush-shisli,  and  the  son  of  Ais-aiiise. 

It  was  on  the  same  day,  as  we  afterwards  heard,  thai  (he  war- 
party  from  Leech  Lake,  wliich  Wa-gp-tone  had  joined,  fell  upon 
forty  Sioux  lodges,  at  the  htiig  prairie.  They  had  tought  for 
two  days,  and  many  'vere  killeil  on  each  side.  Wa-jre-tone  \va> 
the  first  man  to  strike  a  Sioux  lodge.  Wa'i-ka-zhe,  the  brother 
of  Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa,  met  those  Ottawuaws  who  returned 
from  the  Wild  Rice  Kiver,  at  Lake  Winnipeg.  He  had  lieen 
ten  years  in  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  the  country  near  them. 
but  now  wished  to  return  to  his  own  people.  He  had,  in  tin 
course  of  his  long  life,  been  much  among  the  whites,  and  wa- 
well  acquainted  with  the  different  methods  of  gaining  a  subsist- 
ence among  them.  He  told  me  (hat  I  woiiM  lie  much  better  si- 
tuated among  the  whites,  but  that  1  could  not  become  a  trader,  as 
I  was  unable  to  write  ;  I  should  not  like  to  submit  to  constani 
labour,  therefore  I  could  not  be  a  farmer.  'I'here  was  but  one 
situation  exactly  adapted  to  my  habits  and  ipialilications,  that  ot 
an  interpreter. 

He  gave  us,  among  other  information,  some  account  of  a  mis- 
sionary who  had  come  among  the  Ottawwaws  of  Waw-gun-iik- 
kezie,  or  some  of  the  Indian  settlements  about  the  lakes,  and 
urged  them  to  renounce  their  own  religion,  and  adopt  that  of 
the  whites.  In  ccmnexion  with  this  subject,  he  told  us  the  an- 
ecdote of  the  baptized  Indian,  who,  after  death,  went  to  the  gate 
of  the  while  man's  heaven,  and  demande<l  admittance ;  but  the 
man  who  kept  watch  at  the  gate  told  him  no  redskins  could  be 
alloweil  to  enter  there.  "  (io."  si  id  he,  "  for  to  the  west  there 
are  the  villages  and  the  hunting  gruunds  of  those  of  your  own 
people,  who  have  been  on  the  earth  before  you."  So  be  dejyart- 
ed  thence  ;  but  when  he  came  to  the  villages  where  the  t'eud  of 
his  own  people  resided,  the  chief  refnscfl  him  admitf>»nce,     "Yon 


i) 


*  1 


0 


I* 


h 


i 


'-i 


f?' 


\n 


i.vWKKS    NAKKA'l'IVt. 


have  bc'fii  ashamod  of  lis  while  you  lived  ;  you  have  ehohtu 
lo  worship  tho  while  inan's  (Jod.  (»•)  now  W  hiss  village, 
und  let  him  provide  lor  you."  Tin  '  vvas  ni»?cted  by  both 
parties. 

Wah-ka-zhe  heinjr  the  most  consideri  :  <«)  r'^ian  anionp  us,  it  de- 
volved on  him  to  direct  our  movements;  but  throiifih  indcdenee, 
or  perhaps  out  ol'  rcfrard  to  me,  he  determiiieii  that  not  oidy 
himself,  l»ut  his  band,  sluudd,  for  the  winter,  be  (guided  by  mc. 
As  we  had  in  view  no  object  beyond  i)are  sidtsistence,  and  as  I 
was  reckoned  a  very  good  hunter,  and  knew  this  part  of  the 
country  belter  than  any  other  man  of  the  band,  his  course  was 
not  an  im|)()litic  one. 

It  was  in  conformity  to  my  advice  ihat  we  went  to  spend  the 
winter  at  the  He-gwi-o-nush-ko  Fliver.  The  He-gwi-o-nu.^h-ko 
enters  Red  River,  about  ten  miles  below  Pendunah,  and  at  the 
<ime  I  speak  of,  the  country  on  it  was  well  slocked  vvitii  game. 
We  lived  here  in  greal  plenty  and  comfort,  and  Wah-ka-zhe  often 
boasted  ot  his  sagacity  in  choosing  me  to  direct  the  ujotions  of 
his  party.  But  a  j)art  of  the  winter  had  passed,  when  Wa-me- 
jron-a-l)iew  began  to  talk  of  saeriticing  Wah-ka-zhe,  the  latter 
being  in  some  manner  connected  with  the  man  who,  many  years 
before,  had  killed  Taw-ga-we-ninne,  Wa-me-gon-a-biew's  father. 
1  refused  to  join,  or  in  any  manner  countemince  him  in  this  un- 
dertaking; but  notwithstanding  my  remonstrances,  he  went  one 
day  to  the  lodge  «»f  Wah-ka-zhe,  with  his  knife  in  his  hand,  in- 
tending to  kill  him ;  but  as  he  was  entering,  Muk-kud-da-be-na- 
sa,  a  son  of  Wah-ka-zhe,  perceived  his  intention,  and  prevented 
him.  He  inmiediately  tried  to  provoke  Wa-me-jron-a-biew  to 
engage  him  in  single  combat,  but  he  retreated  in  his  accustomed 
manner.  I  not  only  reproved  Wa-me-gon-a-biew  for  this  unman- 
ly conduct,  but  proposed  to  Wah-ka-zhe  to  have  him  driven  from 
the  band,  aiul  Jio  longer  considered  him  my  brother  ;  but  Wuh-ka- 
zhe  was  a  considerate  and  friendly  man,  and  unwilling  that  trouble 
or  disturbance  should  be  made,  and  therefore  forgave  his  oH'ence. 

One  of  the  young  men,  the  son  of  Wah-ka-zhe,  was  accounted 
the  best  hunter  among  the  Indians  of  this  band,  and  there  was. 
between  us,  while  we  resided  at  Be-gwi-o-nuah-ko,  a  friendly  ri- 
valry in  hunting.  O-ke-mah-we-nin-ne,  as  he  was  called,  killed 
Xiiuf teeu  moose,  one  beaver,  and  one  bear ;  I  killed  seventeen 


■V;, 


i 


TANVER'h    NARnATlVi;. 


n:{ 


iiioosr,  one  huiulie*!  hc-avers.  ancJ  seven  hears;  but  lie  was  con- 
^idoreil  the  lietter  hnnU-r,  moose  hciiijr  the  niosi  (liflirult  of  ''I 
Muiniiils  H)  kill.  Tliere  are  many  Iiidiiins  who  hunt  tlironirh  tlie 
M'inler  in  that  roimlry,  ami  kill  no  more  than  Iwo  or  three  moose. 
;ni<i  some  never  are  al)h!  to  kill  one. 

We  had  plenty  oltrame  at  the  Be-|r\vi-o-iuish-ko,  unti]  another 
hand  of  ()iil)he\vays  came  upon  us,  iii  irnal  nuiuliers,  and  in  a 
fttiir\  inir  eoudititin.  While  \\v  were  in  this  siiuatiun,  and  man\  ot' 
tliosf  who  had  recently  joined  us  on  the  point  of  perishing  with 
hunjfcr,  a  man  called  (Jish-ka\v-ko,  the  nephew  ol' hitn  by  whom 
I  was  taken  prisoner,  went  a  Inintiny;,  and  in  one  day  kilhd  two 
moose,  lie  call'd  ine  to  i;,,  with  him  and  nvl  sonu-  nuat,  at  the 
same  timi'  sifrnit'yinsf  his  intention  to  keep  his  succ«'ss  concealed 
from  the  remainder  of  the  hand  ;  hut  I  refused  to  have  any  part 
with  him  in  such  a  transaction.  1  iinmediat*  ly  started  on  a  hunt 
with  Muk-kud-da-he-na-sa,  and  one  or  twt)  other.s.  and  we  having 
(rood  luck,  killed  four  bears,  which  we  distributed  amonjr  tho 
huiiirry. 

We  now  found  it  necessary  for  our  large  party  to  disperse  in 
various  directions.  With  .Muk-k\id-da-be-na-sa,  RIack  Bird,  and 
Wah-ka-zlie,  and  one  other  man,  1  went  and  encam|)ed  at  the  dis- 
tance of  two  days'  journey  fnun  the  place  where  we  had  been 
living.  While  here,  we  all  started  together  one  morning,  to 
hunt,  but  ill  the  course  of  the  day  scattered  from  each  other. 
Late  at  night  [  returned,  and  was  surprised  to  find,  in  plac«'  of 
our  lodge,  nothing  remaining  but  a  little  pile  of  the  dried  grasr? 
we  had  used  for  a  bed.  Under  this  I  found  Black  Bird,  who, 
having  come  in  but  a  little  belore  me,  and  after  the  removal  of 
the  lodge,  had  laid  down  tosh'ep,  su|)|)osing  himself  th»' only  one 
Ict't  Ixdiind.  As  we  followed  the  trail  td"  (»ur  companions  on  the 
succeeding  dav.  we  met  messcnireis  cnnii'iir  to  intorm  us  that  the 
sow  of  ^ah-aitch-e•gum-lne,  the  man  who,  with  Wah-ka-zhe, 
had  left  us  so  unexpectedly,  had  kilhd  himself  by  an  accidental 
discharge  (d'his  gun.  'PWy()un>r  man  had  been  rcstinir  can  h-ss- 
ly  on  the  muzzle  of  his  jint,  when  the  butt  slip|)inir  from  tho 
snow-shoe  on  which  he  had  placed  it,  it  had  fired,  and  the  con- 
tents passing  through  the  arm-pit,  had  entered  his  head  ;  but 
though  so  shockingly  wounded,  ifn  young  man  lived  twenty 
davH  in  a  state  of  stupor  and  insensibility,  and  then  died.     The 


it 

-i 


l.^:. 


.>f 


lilm  •: 


*» 


i 


174  ianner's  Karrativk. 

Indians  attribuloil  to  a  presentiment  of  evil  on  the  part  of  Nali- 
<7it(-h-e-<rinn-iiie  a;><|  \Vali-ka-/.he,  tlieir  abrupt  abandonment  ui 
Black  Hird  and  niVHcll. 

Slicrlly  after  this,  we  were  so  redure<I  l)y  bunker,  that  it  was 
tlniiiifht  neci'>*-<arv  lo  have  reeoiirse  to  a  rnedirine  hunt.  Nah- 
giirh-e-4.nnn-nte  sent  to  me  and  (>-<ie-niah-w»:-ninne,  the  two  best 
hnnt»rs  of  the  band,  each  a  htlJe  leather  sack  of  medicine,  consist- 
in^r  iif  certain  roots,  pounded  fine  and  mixed  with  red  paini,  lobe 
aj)plinl  to  the  litiie  iniaces  or  figures  »d'the  animals  we  wished  in 
kill.  I'recisidv  the  same  method  i.-  practised  in  tliis  kind  of  bnntinir 
at  least  as  fur  as  the  use  of  medicine  is  concerned,  as  in  those  in- 
stances where  one  Indian  attem[)ls  to  inllici  disease  or  siiliirinj;  on 


anoti 


ler. 


A  dm 


iwiiiii, ora  little  ima<rt',  is  maoe  lo  repres<'iil  llie  man 


le  lo 


the  M  oniaii,  or  the  aniinal,  on  «  lii<h  tin  jiower  ot'the  medicine  in  to 
be  tried  ;  tlun  the  part  represeniiiitr  the  heart  is  pnnrtnred  with  a 
sharp  iiislrimient,  it'  the  disiirn  lie  to  cause  <leath,  and  a  little  ol 
the  medicine  is  applied.  The  drawinir  or  imatre  ol  an  animal 
used  in  litis  ca>e  is  called  mii/./i-iie-neen,  miiz/i-Me-iieen-iii>,  (pi.) 
anil  the  same  name  is  applicable  to  the  little  liifiires  of  a  man  oi 
W(»maii,  and  is  som«'limes  rudely  traced  on  birch  bark,  in  dlhe; 
instances  more  carefiillv  carved  of  wood.  VVc  started  witli  miicli 
eonlidencc  of  soccers,  bnl  NVab-ka-/.lie  bdlowed,  and  overtakiii!. 
IIS  at  noine  distance,  cautioned  ii>  airain>t  usintr  the  mediiin< 
ISah-iritchf-jriim-me  had  jriven  iw,  as  he  said  it  wmuII  be  ihi 
means  ol  niiscliief  and  misrr\  to  us,  not  at  present,  but  when  ui 
«'ame  to  die.  VVc  therefore  <lid  n  il  make  nst-  of  ii,  but,  never 
theiess,  Iiap|ieninir  to  kill  some  iraine,  Nab-iritcli-e-irum-me  thnuulii 
himself,  on  account  ol  the  supposed  eHlcaey  of  IiIk  medicim-,  en 
titled  to  a  h.imisoine  share  of  il.  Findinii  ihai  himiriT  was  like 
to  |)r«'ss  severely  iijion  us,  I  sejiarateil  from  tlie  band,  and  m  imii 
to  live  by  iiiysell,  feeliiii;  always  conli<lenl  that  by  so  doinu  I 
could  ensure  a  plentiful  siippiv  for  the  wants  of  my  tamilv.  Wih- 
ka-/he  and  Dlack  Itird  came  to  Lake  Winnipei;.  from  whenrr 
they  ilid  not  return,   .^  I  had  expected  the\   would. 

After  I    hail  tinisbe.j  my  hunt,  and  a!  about  the  u-<u.il   lime  fm 
ussembliii(r  in  the  spriiiir,  I  bejran  to  descend  the  lie-i;wi-o-nush-ke 
to  go  to  the  traders  on  Ki'd  Kiver.      VIost  of  the  IndiatiK  hud  led 
thrir  rumps,  and  ironc  on  before  inf>;  ax  I  wiim  one  morniiiir  pasx 
ing  uitt^  of  our  usual   cnrHinpinir  placeH,   I  saw  on  nhore  a  httle 


!.)i 


» 


lANNKR  S    NAUHAilVK. 


rt  of  Nali- 
oniiiont  ot 

:liat  it  was 
ml.     Nah- 

IC    I  wo   lust 

ic,  consisl- 
|)i»int,  to  l)r 
(•  wishetl  10 
uf  liiiniin;:^ 
ill  tluixc  in 
<)il)('ritii>  oil 
>iil  the  man. 
t'dicim'  in  If 
lun'il  with  a 
I    ii  little  ol 
r  III)  iiiiimnl 

nf  a  mail  or 
ik,  ill  nlhc: 
il  Willi  nuK'Ii 
ovfiliikiiii 
lie  mcdicini 
Miilil  I'O  iht 
ml  \\  lull  \V( 

l)lll.    IM'VCl' 

nir  tliim!:lii 
"(liriiii',  I'll 
•r  wax  liki 
,  anil  \»  cm 
•'Il  (liiiiii;  I 
iiilN.  NViili- 
iiiu  whrncr 

u,il  time  loi 
,  i-o-mixh-ki' 
iaiiK  liail  li'tt 
.riling  paHH- 
ihiire  H  IimI' 


17& 


slick  Btandin^  in  the  bank,  and  altailicd  to  llir  ioj)  ol' it  a  piece  of 
liinli  liurk.  On  cxaminalion,  I  toiind  tlu-  mark  of  n  rattle  snake 
with  a  knilc,  the  handle  tou('hint>  the  snake,  and  the  puinl  stick' 
inf,'  into  a  bear,  the  head  of  the  latter  beiiif?  down.  Near  the  rat- 
tlesnake was  the  mark  of  a  lieaver,  one  of  its  dugs,  it  being  a 
li'iiialc,  touehiiiK  ihe  snake.  'I'liis  was  left  fur  my  information, 
uu>l  1  learned  Ironi  it,  that  Wa-me-gon-a-bieM,  wluise  totem  was 
She-slie-gwali,  the  rattlesnake,  had  killed  a  man  whose  totein 
wa>  Miik-kwah,  the  bear.  The  miirdeier  could  be  no  other  than 
\Va-m«'-goii-a-biew,  as  it  was  specified  that  he  was  the  son  of  a 
woman  whose  lol.in  was  the  beaver,  and  this  I  knew  could  be 
no  .tlh/r  than  Net-no-kwa.  As  tJiere  were  but  few  of  the  bear 
totein  in  our  band,  1  witscoiitideiit  the  man  killed  was  a  young  mail 
lulled  Ke-zha-zhoons  ;  tliat  he  was  dead,  and  not  wouiuled  mere- 
iv,  was  indicated  by  the  drooping  down  of  the  head  of  the  bear. 
I  was  not  ileterred  iiy  this  iiilnrmation  from  continuing'  my  jour- 
ney i  on  the  contrary,  I  hastened  on,  and  arrived  in  time  to  wit- 
ness the  interment  of  the  youii^  man  my  brother  hud  killed. 
Wa-me-goii-a-liiew  went  liy  himself,  and  dut:  a  !£ra\  e  w  ide  enough 
lor  tw(i  men  ;  then  the  Iriends  of  Ke-/.ha-/lio(ins  brought  his 
'iiidy,  and  when  it  «as  let  down  into  the  gra\e,  NVa-me-trmi-a- 
hicw  took  oil  uli  his  clothes,  exee|it  his  bree<  h  ilolli,  and  sitting 
iliiwii  naked  at  the  head  of  the  urave,  drew  his  knile,  and  oller- 
i-d  the  handle  to  the  nearesi  male  relative  ol  the  deceased. 
■Mv  Irieiid,"  said  he,  "I  have  killed  your  brother.  Vou 
>t'e  I  have  made  a  grave  wide  enoiiuh  lor  both  of  us,  and  I  am 
now  ready  and  willing  to  sleep  with  him."  The  first  and  He- 
aind,  and  eventually  all  the  friends  of  the  murdered  young  man, 
icliised  the  knife  which  Wa-im-tfon-a-bieu  oHired  them  in  siic- 
lession.  TIh-  relations  of  V\ii-iiie-gon-a-biew  v\ere  powerful, 
and  it  was  tear  of  them  which  now  saved  his  life.  The  ollenco 
of  the  young  man  whom  he  killcii,  had  been  the  calling  him  "cut 
nose."  FindiiiK  that  none  of  the  male  relations  ot  the  deceaHed 
were  \n  illing  to  undertake  publicly  the  piniishmeiit  of  his  mur- 
derer, Wa-me-gon-a-biew  said  to  them,  "  iroiilde  nie  no  more, 
now  or  hereafter,  about  this  business  ;  I  shall  do  again  as  I  liave 
HUH  duiw,  if  any  uf  you  venture  to  jyrive  me  similar  provucu- 
liun." 
The  molliud  by  wliich  iuromialiuii  of  ihitiairMir  WHscoiiiinuni 


I 


r  i 


4  i 


ii'i!;', 


^ 


>i 


'if 


J7« 


TANNRR  A    NARRATIVE., 


i-ated  to  mp  at  a  distance,  is  out'  in  coniinon  use  among  the  In- 
dians, and,  in  most  rases,  it  is  perffctly  cx(iii('il  and  salislacUtry. 
Tlu'  men  of  the  same  tribe  are  extensively  acquainted  with  the 
totems  which  belong  to  each  :  and  it  un  any  record  uf  this  kiiitl, 
the  figure  of  a  man  apjxars  without  any  desigiuitory  mark,  it  is 
immediately  understood  that  he  is  a  iSioux,  oral  leasl  a  straniier. 
Indeed,  in  most  instances,  as  in  that  al>ove  mentioned,  the  figurt'< 
of  men  are  not  used  at  all,  merely  the  totem,  or  sirname,  bi  in^f 
given.  In  -ases  where  the  information  to  he  conummicaleil 
is  tlial  the  party  mentimied  is  st;irviiiir,  ihc  figm-e  of  a  nuin 
is  sometimes  drawn,  and  his  mouth  is  jiainted  white,  or  white 
paint  may  be  smeared  about  the  mouth  of  the  uniinal,  if  it  hap- 
pens to  be  one,  which  is  his  totem. 

After  visitinir  the  irader  mi  Red  River,  I  startet!  with  the  in- 
tention of  ruining  to  the  Siat(<  ;  but  at  Lake  Winnipeg  i  heani 
that  the  war  between  <M(at  Hritaiii  and  the  rnited  Slates  still 
continued,  with  such  disturbances  on  the  frontier  as  would  render 
it  ditVicult  for  me  to  pass  with  safety.  I  was  therefore  com)>ellp<l 
to  stop  by  myself  at  that  place,  where  I  was  after  some  tiiiu' 
joined  by  Pe-shau-Iia.  VVaw-/,h<-kah-maish-koon,  and  otlx-rs,  1 1 
the  number  uf  three  lodges.  The  tdd  coni|ianion  and  ass<iciiitr 
of  Pe-shau-ba,  Waw-so,  had  been  acci<lenially  killed  by  iin  A 
siiineboin  in  liunting.  Here  we  lived  in  pbniy  und  contentment, 
but  Pe-sliau-ba,  upon  whom  the  death  of  Ins  friend  Waw-so  hail 
made  some  impression,  was  soon  taken  vi<d«'ntly  ill.  He  wa- 
C<uiscious  that  his  end  was  approaching,  and  very  fre<|iientlv 
told  IIS  he  should  nui  live  lonu.  One  da\  he  -aid  tome.  *' I 
remember  liel'ore  I  came  to  live  in  this  world,  i  was  with  tin 
(ireal  Sjiirit  above.  And  I  olten  looked  down,  and  saw  iiit  h 
upon  the  earth.  I  saw  many  gooit  and  desiraide  things,  an<l 
amone  others,  a  beautiful  woman,  and  as  I  looked  day  after  <l:i\ 
at  the  wmnan,  he  said  to  iiie,  '  Pe-shiiu-bii,  do  you  love  the  wn- 
mull  \  on  an'  -^o  olten  lookiiii:  at  f  I  (old  him  I  did  :  then  h'  saitl 
to  me,  '  (io  down  and  spend  a  few  winters  on  the  earth.  V<mi 
cannot  stay  long,  and  you  must  remember  to  be  always  kind  uiM 
good  to  my  children  whom  you  see  below.'  So  I  came  down. 
but  I  have  never  forgotten  wliui  was  said  to  me.  i  have  alwuV': 
stood  in  the  smoke  between  die  two  bands,  when  my  people  lm\c 
fuuffiil  with  their  enemies.     1  have  not  Htruckmy  iVifiids  la  thi-i' 


J., 


tanner's    NAUKATIVi:. 


m 


vith  the  in- 
P)j  I   lu'iinl 
Stall's   still 
(iiiltl  render 
V  ctiinpellpil 
some   till!' 
il  olheri*,  II 
nil  assoeiali 
1   liv  a II    A- 
oiitentiueiii. 
\Viiw-«o  liail 
He   wii-^ 
lioi|iieiillv 
||    III  me.   "  1 
rt  as  with  till 
|i\)l   saw  nun 
lliinifs,  iw\ 

[lay  al'lei-  'l^t^ 
love   iIm'  \mi 
llien  \\r  xanl 
earth.      Y'ni 
lays  kiiiil  iiiiii 
raiue  down, 
have  alway-i 
lieojile  huM' 
Lends  ill  ll»«*'' 


|o(l|TeH.  I  have  disrofirarded  the  foohshness  of  yoiiii^  men  who 
AVould  have  ofl'ended  me,  hut  have  always  heeii  ready  and  willing 
to  lead  our  brave  men  against  the  Sioux.  I  have  always  gone 
into  battle  painted  black,  as  I  now  am,  and  I  now  hear  the  same 
voice  that  talked  to  me  before  I  eame  to  this  world  ;  it  tells  me  I 
can  remain  here  no  longer.  To  yon,  my  brother,  I  have  been  a 
protector,  and  yon  will  lie  sorry  when  I  leave  you  ;  but  be  not 
like  a  w<Mnan,  yon  will  soon  follow  in  my  path,"  lie  then  put 
on  the  new  rloth*'-  I  had  liiven  him  to  wear  below,  walked  out 
(if  the  lodtre,  lookeil  at  the  sun,  the  sky,  the  lake,  and  the  distant 
hills;  tht  n  came  in,  and  lay  down  composedly  in  his  place  in  th«! 
iodfie,  and  in  a  fow  miiinles  c»'as<'d  to  breathe. 

After  the  death  of  Pe-shau-ba,  I  wished  t(»  have  inadi  another 
attempt  to  come  to  the  States;  but  Waw-xhe-kah-maish-koon 
prevented  me.  I  lived  with  him  the  remainder  of  the  winter, 
and  ill  the  fsprinff  vv.nl  to  Ne-bo-wese-be,  (Dead  River.)  where  wc 
|.hiiited  corn,  and  spent  the  stimmer.  in  the  tall,  after  the  com 
was  Leathered,  we  went  to  onr  hunting  jircnmrls. 

An  old  Ojibbeway,  ^-alled  Crooked  Fiiurer,  had  been  livlny  in 
my  lod^re  about  a  year;  In  all  that  time,  havinjr  never  killed  any 
ihintr.  When  I  started  to  hunt  biilhiloe.  be  follovveil  nie,  and  wc 
tame  at  the  same  time  in  view  of  a  larire  bcnl,  when  the  old  man 
nuleavonred  to  raise  a  ipiarrel  about  my  riirht  to  use  those  hunt- 
iiH(  urminds.  "Yon  Ojiawwaws,"  said  he.  "  have  no  riyht  \\y, 
this  part  of  the  country  ;  and  lliouLfh  I  eannol  control  all  of  yon, 
I  have  you,  at  last,  ni>w  in  my  power,  and  I  am  dilerinined,  that 
if  ynu  do  not  yo  back  to  your  own  country  from  this  very  spot. 
I  will  kill  y<>u."  I  had  no  apprehension  on  account  of  his  thrent. 
and  I  defied  him  to  injure  or  mol«>st  me.  Alter  an  hour  or  more 
(tf  idtercati(m,  he  crept  up.  and  at  lei.irih  besran  to  shoot  at  the 
herd  of  iintliiloe.  Soon  alter  lie  had  left  me,  tw  o  Oilawwaw--. 
who  had  overheard  the  ipiarrel  as  ihey  were  comiiiu  up,  and  haii 
concc  il-'d  themselves  in  ibe  liushes  near,  joim-n  m  The  old 
iiiuii,  after  three  or  lour  misuccessful  shots  ..i  tl  e  h  Ulaioe  i'.jrne»I 
an<l  went  home,  ashamed  alike  of  hi^  in<(deiice  \'  ;.ie,  and  of  hi-) 
ftuiii  of  sincess.  Then  I  went  forward  with  the  iwu  yom.ir  Ot- 
tawwaws  who  had  joined  nie,  und  we  killed  on;>inerHble  iio:<>- 
her  of  fat  eown. 

•Shortly  after  this,  when  i  had  been  huniiufir  all  day,  on  reluvn- 


!r'-:f*m 


^Tr 


I, 


f' 


♦  1 


^»';-' 


?  t 


i 


ITS 


TANNKR  S    NAUKATlVr. 


ing  home  late  at  niglit,  I  lound  a  very  imusiiul  >iloomin«»sK  in  tht; 
(^ounteiiaiu'cs  of  nil  tin-  inmates  of  my  lodiro.  I  saw  tlu're  a  niau 
named  Cliik-ali-t<»,  who  was  almost  a  stranger  to  me.  He,  and 
all  the  rest  of  llu'm,  seemed  as  if  east  «lowa  by  some  sudden  and 
unexpected  bad  news ;  and  when  I  asked  my  wife  the  rausc  of 
this  apparent  distress,  she  returned  me  no  answer.  At  len^ilh, 
VV'aw-zhe-kah-maisIi-koon,  in  re|)Iy  to  my  earnest  impiiries,  told 
me,  with  the  utmost  seriousness,  anil  a  voice  ol' solemn  emieerti, 
thm  the  (neat  Spirit  bad  e<Mne  down  asrain.  "  What,  has  he 
come  again  so  soon  ?"  said  I ;  "  lie  eomes  ot'ten  of  late  ;  but  1  sup- 
pose we  must  hear  what  he  has  to  say."  The  lisiht  ami  irreve- 
rent manner  in  whirli  I  treated  the  subjeet,  wa-  very  ollensive  t(j 
many  of  the  Iiulians.  and  they  a|)parently  all  determined  to 
withhold  iVom  me  all  coinnumieations  respeeling  it.  This  was  to 
me  a  matter  of  little  ronsei|uence,  and  I  went,  as  usual,  to  my 
huntinjr,  on  the  followinir  nutrninu.  Mv  own  indillerenre  and 
eonlempt  for  these  preleiideil  revelations  of  the  Divin.-  will,  kejH 
me  in  ignoraiice,  for  some  time,  of  llu-  purport  ot  the  present  (Mic. 
But  at  a  subsequent  period  of  my  life,  I  found,  that  thoutrh  my 
skeptirism  might  not  be  olfensiv*'  to  the  (ireal  (Jod,  in  whosn 
name  these  revelations  were  made  to  us,  still  it  was  liighly  so  to 
those  who  were  pleased  to  stile  themselves  his  messengers ;  and 
that,  by  ineurrinu;  their  ill  v.ill,  1  exposed  m).self  to  much  iiicoi'.- 
vcnienre  and  danger. 

Ill  the  s[iring  of  tlie  year,  after  we  had  assembleil  at  the  trading: 
Jjouse  at  reinbinah,  tlie  rliiel's  built  a  liieal  lodirc,  and  I'alled  .ill 
the  men  logelber  to  receive  some  inl'orinatioii  eoiieerninj>  lli.' 
newly  revealed  will  ol  the  (Jreat  Spirit.  The  messenger  of  ihiv' 
revelation,  was  Maiiito-o-geezliik,  a  man  of  no  great  faiiK-,  Inn 
well  known  to  most  of  the  (>iibbe^tays  of  that  eoimtry.  He  had 
disap|)eareil  lor  about  (me  year,  and  in  that  time,  he  pretended  In 
have  visited  the  abode  of  the  (Jreat  Spirit,  and  to  have  listened 
to  his  instriK-tiiHis  :  but  some  of  the  traders  informed  me,  he  had 
only  been  to  St.  liOiiis,  on  the  Mississippi. 

The  l.illle  Cliim  loolx  it  upon  him  to  explain  (he  object  ot 
^\^^  iiieeliiiti.  He  then  sung  anil  pra\ed,  and  proceeded  to  ik- 
tail  the  principal  features  of  the  revelation  (o  !Manito«(i-gcc- 
zhik.  The  Indians  were  no  more  to  go  against  their  enemies; 
they  tnuft  bo  longer  steal,  defraud,  or  lie  ;  they  must  neither  Ni 


IANNKR's    NAKHATIVl,, 


179 


<iruiik.  noF  eat  their  fcuul,  mtrtlriiik  lluir  tnvuli  wlicii  ii  was  lini. 
Few  ot"  the  injiiiiftions  ul"  Miiiiit(i-(i-<r((/.liiL  were  li()iil)le!i(tme 
or  (liHicult  «»f  Obs'^rvaiiet',  like  ihosi-  ol'  the  Shiiw  lui'  prophet. 
Muiiy  of  the  iiiaxiins  and  iiistructiniis  eoiiiinniiieateii  to  the  In- 
chaiis,  at  this  time,  were  of  a  kiixl  to  he  permiinenily  and  valua- 
bly useful  l«)  them;  and  liie  elii-cl  of  ihcir  influcnre  was  manifest 
for  two  or  three  years,  in  the  more  orderly  eoiidnet.  and  some- 
what amended  condition  of  the  Indians. 

When  we  wire  ready  to  scparalc  (Vom  the  tradinij-house,  Ais- 
ainse,  (the  little  <lam,)  invited  several  o|  us,  myself  in  partienlar, 
tu  areompany  hint  to  his  residence  at  Maii-e-to  Sah-iri-e-sinn,  or 
Spirit  Lake,*  hut  I  would  not  join  him,  as  I  wished  lo  remain  iii 
a  woody  connlry,  for  the  purpose  of  hunlinir  the  fnr-l)earin>:  ani- 
mals. 'l\'\\  nwn,  amonif  whom  were  VVa-i;«'-lone  and  <ii-ah-<(e- 
jrit,  together  with  ^real  numbers  of  women,  aeicpiel  his  invita- 
tion, and  went  with  him.  A  yinmi;  man.  a  fri(Mi<l  of  the  Little 
Clam,  named  Se-trwnn-oons,  (-iirimr  deer.)  l)efor(>  tiny  sejiaraleil 
from  us  at  I'einbinah,  predicted  that  he  would  be  killed  al  Spirit 
Lake,  ^kany  other  predicli(Hi-<  he  made,  which  were  verified 
from  day  to  day,  until  the  Indians  cam«>  to  ha\e  such  <  ontideiire 
in  him,  that  his  admonitions  ot'  impending;  danu;er  to  those  who 
sliould  t5<»  to  Spirit  Lake,  liei>an  to  be  so  much  reijarded,  that 
^V;!-lne-^on-a-i)iew,  and  many  others,  became  alarmed,  and  re- 
turned. Last  ol  all  came  Malch-e-loons.  a  I'tndish  ami  lyinj; 
youn^  man,  who  reported  ihat  the  indications  of  danirer  thick- 
ciiinti  around  the  Little  Tlam  and  his  band,  he  had  >ttden  away 
ill  the  ni^rht,  and  <.he  next  mornin<i,  thouah  he  had  lied  a  consi- 
derable distance,  hi'  heard  the  jiuiis  of  the  Sionx  at  tiie  camp  hr 
had  left.  We  did  not  innnedialely  creilit  the  acemmt  of  tlii.>« 
man,  but  waited  anxiously,  from  day  to  <fay.  till  at  last  the  chiefs 
fin  rmin«'d  to  send  twenty  UKn,  to  ascertain  whether  there  wnt^ 
any  louiulation  lor  his  statement.  This  jiarly,  when  they  ar- 
rived at  the  |)loce  where  lh<'  Little  Clam  had  been  encamped, 
found  that  the  whole  band  had  been  cut  oil'.  First,  and  in  ad- 
vance of  all  the  camp,  lav  the  body  of  Se-trw  un-oiuis,  the  vftimp 
Oitiu  who  had  |)redicU'd  the  attack  before  he  left  reml)inah. 
.Near  hiiu  lay  some  young  men  of  iiis  own  age,  and  farther  back 


Lt  neither  b-i 


»  JDc'rfi  LoAf.  ujwl  on  the  Norih  VVivst  Compunv's  map,  (iijd'g  J^tJ<r 


Jl 


ir^  -^l. 


i 


'1 


1>0 


•lANNEH  rt  NAKRATIVr.. 


the  stoiil  l)(»(ly  of  the  Little  Clam,  stuck  full  of  arrowsi.  In  tin- 
camp  the  tiroimil  was  strewed  with  the  iKuiies  of  tlie  women  and 
chiltlrei).  At  a  distance  was  llie  liody  of  one  of  the  Sioux,  in  a 
siltinjf  posture,  and  covered  willi  the  puk-kwi,  or  mats,  which 
Iiad  bell  red  to  the  ()jii)heway  Iodtf«s.  Not  one  escaped  cxcejx 
Malch-e-toons,  but  some  afterwards  doubted  whether  he  had  not 
fled  in  lli<'  lime  of  the  furhi.  insleail  ol  (he  eveninif  before,  as  ht 
iiad  stated.  Thus  died  the  l^iille  ('him,  tiu'  hist  of  liie  considera- 
ble iiwn  of  his  ajre,  l>eion)iin!f  to  the  Ojibiu  ways  of  Red  River. 
Our  villajfc  seenu'd  thsidalc  after  the  recent  hiss  of  so  many  men. 

We  then  went  down  lo  Dea.I  I{iver,  |)lanled  corn,  a'«l  sjteni 
the  suninitr  tlure.  Sha-awaw-koo-sink,  an  Oltawwaw,  a  friend 
ol  nunc,  and  an  <dd  niaii,  first  introduced  the  cidlivation  uf  corn 
ailion^r  the  Ojibbeways  of  the  Red  River  country. 

Jn  the  tnsuin^  fall,  when  we  w<';ii  lo  our  hunting  irrounds,  the 
wolves   were   unusually  nuiuerous   and    troublesome.     'I'hey  at- 
tacked and  killed  my  hor.^e,  anti  s(  xeral  ol    my  doirs.      One   day. 
when  I  !iad  killed  a  nioos(>,  and  mmv  with  all  my  lamily  to  briiiij 
in  the  meat,  1   found,  on  m>>  return.  liu>  wolves  had  pulled  down 
my  lod>;e,  carried  oil   inunv  skins,  carrying-straps,  and,  in  line, 
whatever  articles  of  skin,  or  leather,  they  could  come  at.     1  kill- 
ed ((real  numbers,  but  they  still  coiilitiiied  to    trouble   me,  parti 
culurly  an  old  doir  wolf,  who  Imd   l)eeii  so  often  at  my  door  lliai 
I    knew   !   s   appearance,    and  was  perfectly  actpiainted  with   In- 
habits.     He  used,  w  h<  i!c\er  he  came,  to  advance  boldly  ujton  m\ 
(logs,  and  drive   them  in  ;   he  would  then    prowl   about,    to  sei/- 
whatever  he  could  find  of  lood.      At  last,  I  loaded  mv  (run.  nm 
went  out,  when   he  spruiii;  directly  at    me;   but   I    shot  Intu   In 
furc  h«  JihU  time  lu  fastvn  ujiun  niu.     Hull'  ht»  hair  hud  fuileti  oil 


I 


1 


,  » 


lANSERS   NAHHATIVK. 


m 


In  th« 
iiiiru  und 
oux,  ill  a 

fd  except 
t>  had  not 
,re,  urt  he 
•oiisiilora- 
led  llivir. 
uiiiiN  nun. 
((■id  i^\)vu\. 
V,  u  friend 
oit  ot  com 

•ounds,  thr 

Th«'y  i>t- 
Oni'  diiy. 
i!y  tt>  hrini: 
»ill»'d  down 
lid.   in   linr. 
at.     I  kill- 
iiir,  parti 
y  »l»)«»r  ihm 
I'tl  with  hi- 
lly upon  w) 
il,    lit  sri/' 
IV  (iun.  ai" 
ol   hini   l)r 
d  Ittlh-n  "'1 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Rapncitv  r.f  the  triidrrs — rcvclalioii  of  .MitnilK-o-gci-zliik — ijretonsions  ol  As- 
kiiwlia-wis — (■r('iliilit\  nl  the  Iinliniis— <i)liiiiy  :il  |{cil  K'lvrr,  |.liiiiti'.l  hy  the 
lliiil-itn's  l!n\  traders — lar^t'  \var-|iarty  iissriiilili'd  ;it  'I'urtli  Muuntaiii — want 
(if  iliriciplinr. 

IVIu.  IIknrv  had  traded  tpu  y^ars  at  Peinhinah;  he  was  suc- 
fccfh'd  l)y  a  Mr.  M'Kcnzic,  who  rrniained  Imt  a  sliort  tiiiip,  and 
iifttr  him  cjimi.'  Mr.  VVtdls,  <-all«Ml  l)y  the  Indians  (iah-sc-moaii,  (a 
>:iil.)  from  the  runndncss  and  fulness  of  his  person,  lie  huiit  a 
slroim^  lorl  on  Hi  d  Uiver,  near  the  inoiilh  of  the  Assinnehoin. 
The  Hudson's  Hay  (  niiipiiny  Inid  now  no  post  in  that  part  of 
iln-  country,  and  the  Indians  were  soon  made  conscious  of  the 
idvantajre  whieh  had  formerly  resnlK'd  to  them  front  the  rompe- 
ilioii  htlween  rival  tradinif  eoinnnnies.  Mr.  ^V  ells,  at  the  com- 
iiieiieeiiieiii  of  winter,  <'alled  n^  all  together,  mive  <lie  Indians  il 
'.en  s;alloii   !'e)r  of   nmi,  and   sonie  tohaeco,  tellinsr  them,  at  ihc 

f-Hine  time.  It oiild  not  ere<lil  one  of  them  the  value  of  a  sinjjlc 

heedle.  *Vh«  n  they  hroiiirht  skins,  he  wotdd  l>ny  them,  and 
irive  in  exehani>e  such  urtieles  as  were  ne«'«'ssar  lor  their  eoin* 
tort  and  sid)sist«Miee  diirini>  llir  winter.  I  was  not  with  the  In* 
diiin.'  •vhen  litis  i  dk  was  held.  NVhen  it  was  reporlf!  to  mc, 
iiiil  a  i.hare  of  the  [iresenls  oHered  me,  I  not  only  reluseil  to  ac- 
K  plans  thiiiLN  hnl  repricic' ed  the  Indians  f  r  tlseir  pn  lanimity 
ill  ■iidnnitli:!^  to  siiehiitis.  They  had  een  aenistoined,  tor 
nnuiv  years,  to  receive  eredits  in  lln*  fall;  iliey  were  now  en- 
tirely destitute  not  of  elotliintr  merelv.  hut  of  ammunition,  and 
many  of  the  of  ^uns  and  traps,  li  •  \  were  they,  without 
die  neeiisioined  aid  from  thi<  iiaders.  to  siihsi-^t  heinselves  and 
their  familie-^  diiriiiii  the  en  uniif  w  inter  ?  A  tew  days  afuru  ariis, 
I  went  to  Mr.  WellH,  ami  tidd  hini  t  i  I  wbh  poor,  with  a  liari^ 
family  l"  supixirt  by  my  own  exertions,  and  tlui  I  muM  no* 
^uiilnbly  sullier.  and   perha|>s  peritth.  unless   hi    wnold   ffivr  me 


i'r 


■y^ 


i' 


It     y 


183 


'fANXEn'b   N4RRATIVB. 


eucli  a  rrrdit  as  I  had  always,  in  tlie  fall,  been  accustomed  to  re- 
ccivc.  lit'  wtiidd  not  listen  to  my  rf|ircs«-iitation,  and  told  inr, 
roughly,  to  i>v  gone  from  his  house,  i  then  took  eight  silver 
heaveis,  siuh  as  are  worn  by  the  women,  as  ornuments  on  their 
dress,  and  which  1  harl  purchased  the  year  before  at  just  twice 
the  price  that  was  coiinaiinly  given  lor  a  capote;  1  laid  tiiem  be- 
for«-  him,  on  the  table,  and  asked  him  to  give  me  a  capote  for 
(hem,  or  retain  tlu  ni  as  a  pU-dge  for  the  pa\menl  of  the  price  of 
the  garment,  as  soon  a>  1  could  procuri'  the  peltries.  He  took 
up  the  ornaments,  threw  them  in  my  face,  anil  told  me  ne\er  to 
come  inside  of  lii-<  house  again.  The  <-(dd  weather  of  the  winter 
had  not  yet  s«'t  in,  and  I  wint  imnuMliately  to  my  limiting  ground, 
killed  a  numl)er  of  moose,  and  set  my  wife  to  make  the  skins  into 
siicli  garments  as  were  best  adapted  to  the  winter  season,  and 
uhi(  h  1  now  saw  we  should  be  compelled  to  sul>stitute  tor  the 
bliiiikels  and  woollen  ilothes  we  liad  been  accuslomeil  to  receive 
from  the  traders. 

I  continued  my  hunting  with  good  sueress,  but  the  winter  had 
not  half  passed,  when  I  lieanl  thai  Mr.  Ilanie,  a  trader  for  the 
Hudson's  Hay  people,  had  arrivi-d  at  I'endiin.ih.  I  went  imme- 
diately to  him,  and  he  uave  me  all  the  credit  I  asked,  which  wa-; 
to  the  anmunl  (d' seventy  skins.  Tln'ii  i  went  to  Muskral  Kiver, 
where  1  hunted  the  riniainder  of  the  winter,  killinn  great  num- 
bers of  martens,  beavers,  otters,  «5te. 

Karlv  in  the  siirinif,  I  sent  word  by  some  Indians  to  Mr.  Ilanie. 
that  1  would  go  down  to  the  imnith  of  the  A-isinneiioin,  and  iir  ct 
him  there,  to  pay  my  credit,  as  I  had  skins  more  thait  enough  for 
tliis  puipos«'. 

When  I  arrived  at  the  Assiiuieboin,  Mr.  Ilanie  had  not  yri 
passed,  and  I  slopped  to  wait  for  him  ojipusite  Mr.  VV(  H's  tradiii;j 
hcMise.  An  idd  {''renchman  nl]ei'ed  me  a  loiJMini;  in  his  house, 
and  I  went  in  and  d  p  ite  '  ni.  peltries  under  the  place  he  gave 
me  to  sh-ep  in.  Mi.  W.  lis,  having  card  of  my  arrival,  sei\i 
thr<'e  li  es,  urii'ng  me  ti>  -  ome  and  sec  him.  At  last,  I  yiiddcrl 
to  the  s'-'icilations  of  rny  brother-in-law,  and  crossed  over  wilh 
him.  Mr.  Wills  was  glad  to  see  me,  and  treated  me  with  much 
politeness  ;  he  afVered  me  wine  and  provisions,  and  whatever  his 
house  Htlorded-  I  had  taken  nothinir  except  a  little  tobacco. 
>vhen  I  saw  his  Frenclinian  eome  in  with  my  packs.     They  car- 


V 


lANNKRS    NAUKATlVi: 


ISiJ 


ricd  them  past  me  into  Mr.  Well's  bed  room  ;  lie  then  locked  the 
door,  and  lookout  the  key.  liiunediiitely  his  kiiidiiess  and  at- 
tentions to  me  rcla.xed.  1  said  nothing,  but  tVii  not  ihe  h'ss 
anxious  and  uneasy,  as  i  was  very  unwilling  to  be  deprived  of 
the  means  of  paying  Mr.  llanie  his  credit,  still  more  so  to  have 
my  property  taken  from  n»e  by  violenee,  or  without  my  own  con- 
soiit.  1  watched  about  the  house,  uikI  at  length  luunii  an  oppor- 
tunity to  slip  into  the  bed  room,  wliile  Mr.  Wells  was  then  lakii^; 
fiometiiing  from  a  trunk.  He  tried  to  drive  me,  and  al'terwa.-ds 
to  push  mc  out,  but  1  was  too  strong  for  him.  Alter  he  had 
proceeded  to  this  violence,  1  did  not  hesitate  to  take  up  uiy  packs, 
but  he  snatched  them  I'roin  me.  Again  I  seized  them,  and  in 
the  struggle  that  ensued,  the  thongs  thai  boimd  them  wero 
broken,  and  the  skins  strewed  about  the  tloor.  As  1  went  to 
gather  them  up,  he  drew  a  i»i»tol,  cocked  it,  ami  presented  it  to 
my  itreast.  For  a  moment  I  stood  motioidess,  thinking  ho  would 
cerlaiidy  kill  me,  as  i  saw  he  was  much  eiiiauH  d  ;  then  1  seized 
his  hand,  and  turned  it  aside,  at  the  same  moment  drawing  iVoin 
my  licit  a  large  knife,  which  I  grasped  tirmly  in  my  right  hand, 
still  holding  him  by  my  left.  Seeing  himself  thus  sudilenl\  ;inrt 
entirely  in  my  power,  he  called  lirsl  for  his  wife,  tlu'ii  for  his  in- 
terpreter, and  told  them  to  put  me  out  of  the  house.  To  this,  the 
interpreter  answered,  "  You  are  as  able  to  put  him  out  as  I  am.*' 
H(une  of  the  Frenchmen  were  also  in  the  house,  but  they  refused 
to  ifive  him  any  assistance.  Fimling  he  was  imt  likely  to  in- 
timidate or  overcome  sue  by  \  iolence,  lie  had  rfcoursc  onco 
more  to  milder  measures.  He  (diered  to  divide  with  me,  and  to 
allow  me  to  retain  half  my  peltries  for  the  lluilsmi's  Bay  people, 
"  You  have  always,"  saiil  he,  "  bcloiicred  to  the  north  west  ; 
why  should  yon  now  desert  us  for  the  Hudson's  \V,\\  I"'  He 
then  proceed)  d  t<>  count  the  skins,  di\  idiii>^  tin  in  into  two  par- 
cels ;  but  I  told  him  it  was  unnecessarv,  as  I  was  delermlMed  he 
should  not  have  o'le  of  them.  "I  w«'nt  to  you,''  said  I,  '■  last 
fall,  when  I  was  huuLny  and  destitute,  and  you  drove  nx',  like  a 
dog,  fiMun  your  floor.  The  ammunition  with  which  I  killed 
these  animals,  was  credited  to  me  by  Mr.  Hanie,  and  the  skins 
belong  to  him;  hut  if  this  was  not  the  case,  you  should  not 
have  one  of  ihetn.  You  are  a  coward  ;  you  have  not  so  much 
courage  as  a  child.     If  you  had  the  lieart  of  a  si^uaw,  you  wouM 


1} 

I' 


I  ■' 


ili  - 


i 


I 

•  '1 


ls4 


TANNtn's    NARKATIVC. 


not  have  pointed  your  pistol  at  my  I)rea3t,  and  have  failed  to 
shoot  me.  My  life  whs  in  your  powi  r,  and  there  was  mitliiiig 
to  prevent  your  lakinfr  it,  not  even  the  fear  of  my  friends,  f(ir 
you  know  that  I  am  a  stranger  here,  and  not  one  among  tlie  In- 
dians would  raise  his  hand  to  avenge  my  death.  You  miglit  have 
thrown  my  body  into  the  river,  as  you  would  a  dog,  an<l  no  one- 
would  have  asked  you  what  you  had  i  iie ;  but  you  wanted  the 
spirit  to  do  even  this."  He  asked  me  il  1  had  not  a  knite  in  my 
hand.  I  then  showed  him  two,  a  I  r  .<•  and  a  small  oiu>,  and  told 
him  to  beware  how  he  provoked  me  t.»  use  thein.  At  last,  wea- 
ried with  this  altereation,  he  went  and  sat  down  o|)posite  me  in 
the  large  room  ;  thouirh  he  was  at  eon-iderable  distance,  so  great 
was  his  agitation,  that  I  rould  distinctly  hear  his  heart  lieat.  ^^Ilc 
sat  awhile,  then  went  and  began  'o  walk  hack  and  forth  in  the 
yard.  I  collected  my  skins  togetlx  .  and  the  inter;  -eter  helped 
me  to  tie  them  up  ;  then  taking  them  on  my  back,  I  walked  out, 
passed  close  by  him,  put  them  in  my  canoe,  and  returned  to  the 
old  Frenchman's  house,  on  the  other  side. 

Next  mornino,  il  appeared  that  Mr.  Weils  had  thought  better 
of  the  subject,  than  to  wish  to  take  my  property  from  me  by  vio- 
leiue,  for  he  sent  his  intcroreter  to  otl'cr  me  his  horse,  which  was 
u  very  valual)le  <me,  if  I  would  think  no  more  of  what  lie  h;ul 
done.  "  Tell  him,"  said  I,  to  the  interpreter,  "  he  is  a  child. 
and  wishes  to  tpiarrel  ami  forget  his  ijuarrel  in  one  day  ;  but  he 
shall  not  find  I  am  like  him:  I  luive  a  horse  of  my  own;  I  will 
keep  mv  packs;  nor  will  I  foruet  tlial  Ik  pointed  bis  pistol  at 
my  breast,  when  lie  lind  iioi  tlie  coiirat:e  to  shoot  me." 

On  the  following  morning,  one  ot  the  clerks  of  the  North  West 
Company  arrived  from  the  trading-house  at  Mouse  River,  and 
he,  i!  ai)prared.  told  "Mr.  Wells,  wInn  he  liranl  what  had  |>assed. 
that  ho  wcMilil  lake  my  paiks  from  me;  and  llmugh  Mr.  Well- 
eauti.>ned  him  against  it,  Ik  determined  on  maixing  the  attempt. 
It  was  near  noon,  when  the  old  Frenchman,  after  looking  out  of 
his  house,  said  to  ute,  "  My  friend,  I  believe  you  will  lose  your 
packs  now  ;  four  men  are  cominu  this  way,  all  well  armed  ;  their 
visit,  I  am  sure,  is  for  no  gooii  or  friendly  purpose."  Ilraring 
this,  i  placed  my  packs  in  the  middle  of  the  tioor,  and  Uiking  u 
beaver  trap  in  my  band,  sat  down  on  them.  When  the  clerk 
e«ine  in.  arcompauied  by  three  youug  mou.  he  a-sked  mc  for  ins 


V.    iV 


I-ANNKU's    NAIillATlV  t\ 


i-5r> 


and  have  (&\M  to 
there  was  uotliiug 
of  my  IVitnils,  iov 
one  amonil  the  In- 
1.  You  mishl  have 
1  a  iU)tf,  antl  n<»  oiu; 
but  you  wanted  tlu; 
111  not  a  knil'e  in  my 

small  one,  and  told 
hem.  'Vt  last,  wea- 
lown  opposite  me  in 
lie  ilistanre,  so  preat 

bis  lu-arl  heat.  ■5^110 
uk  and  forth  in  the 
IH'  interv  eter  helped 

back,  I  walked  .ml. 
,  and  returned  to  th« 

Is  had  thought  better 
)crty  from  me  by  vio- 
;  his  horse,  whieh  was 
uore   of  wbal  be  li;id 
■vU-T.   "  he   is  a  ebilil. 
el  in  one  day  ;  hnt  he 
se  of  my  '»wn  ;  I  will 
pointed  bis  pistol  at 
;liool  me." 
llvsoftbe  North  West 
at  Movisr  Kiver,  ami 
Lard  what  had  passed. 
Ll  tliMiigh   Mr.  Well- 
|,  maiviii}!  the  attemi>l. 
I.  after  looking  out  ol 
V,.  you  will  lose  youv 
I,  all  well  armed;  their 
V  purpose."     H.aiiiifr 
be  tioor,  and  Uikinij  f 
lu'in.     'VVheii  the  elerk 
u.  he  a.skcd  me  fur  im 


'tacks.  "  What  right  have  you,"  said  I,  ♦'  lo  (Ifioanil  liiein  *"' 
•  Vou  are  indebted  to  inc,"  said  he.  "When  did  1  owe  the 
\..rth  West  any  tliintr,  that  was  not  paid  at  the  time  airreed  on?'' 
'■Ten  years  ago,"  said  be,  ")()iir  brother,  Wa-me-gon-a-bie\v, 
had  a  criMJit  Ironi  ine,  which  he  paid  all  but  ten  skins;  those  arc 
sUlldue,  and  I  wish  you  to  pay  them."  "Vory  well,"  said  I.  "f 
will  pay  your  demand,  but  you  nnist,  at  llie  .^ann-  time,  pay  mr 
for  those  four  packs  of  beaver  we  sent  to  you  from  the  (Iraud 
Porlaire.  Your  due  bill  was,  as  yini  know,  burned  with  my 
lodge,  at  Kc-nu-kaw-ne-she-wa-bo-ant,  and  you  have  never  paid 
me,  or  any  member  of  our  family,  the  value  of  a  single  needle 
for  those  one  hundred  and  sixty  l)eaver  skins."  Finding  this 
method  would  not  succeed,  and  knowing,  though  he  disregarded 
it,  the  justice  of  my  reply,  he  tried  the  eH'ect  of  violent  measures, 
like  those  used  on  the  preceding  day  bv  Mr.  Wells  ;  but  when 
he  perceived  these  were  and  would  Ix  ■  .|ually  unavailir)g,  he  rc- 
turred  to  the  fort,  without  having  k«-n  a  single  marten  skin 
from  me. 

When  I  ascertained   that  it  would  ume  time  before  Mr. 

Hanie  would  arrive,  I  went  down  (o  Dead  Ki\  (  i ,  and  whih'  I  was 
waiting  there,  killeil  four  hundred  nniskrats.  \l  last.  Mr.  lianip 
arrived  at  the  place  where  1,  with  another  man,  bad  been  waiting 
for  him.  He  told  me  that  he  had  passed  Mr.  Wells'  trading- 
house,  at  the  moutli  of  the  Assinneboin,  in  the  middle  of  the  dav. 
with  his  crew  singing.  Mr.  Wells,  on  seeing  him,  had  immedi- 
ately started  after  him,  with  a  canoe  strongly  maimed  and  armed. 
On  perceiving  this  pursuit,  Mr.  Ilani*'  went  on  shore,  and  leaving 
his  men  in  his  canoe,  went  up  aliout  twenty  yards  into  a  smooth 
prairie.  Hither  Mr.  Wells  followed  him,  attended  l)y  several 
armed  men;  but  Mr.  Hanie  made  him  stop  at  the  distance  often 
yards,  atid  a  long  dispute  lollowed,  which  ended  in  bis  permit- 
ting Mr.  Hanie  to  pass  down.  I  related  to  him  my  story  of  the 
treatment  I  had  received,  and  paid  him  his  credit.  I  traded  with 
him  for  the  remainder  of  my  peltries,  and  after  we  had  fmislied, 
he  gave  me  s(une  handsome  presents,  anumg  which  was  a  valua- 
ble gun,  and  then  went  on  liis  way.  As  I  was  re-ascending  Red 
River,  I  met  Mr.  Wells.  He  was  destitute  of  fresh  game,  and 
asked  me  for  some,  which  I  should  h.ave  given,  had  it  been  in 
my  power ;  but  he  attributed  my  refusal  to  ill  will.     Afterward'^, 

ti4 


/ 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


1^  IIIIM 
IIIIIM 


1^ 

us 

;!f  1^  12.0 


IL25  i  1.4 


1.6 


v] 


v^ 


r^  -5i;^.:> 


■^.^ 


^j" 


/ 


^^. 


'/ 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


33  WtST  MAIN  STRUT 

WiBSTH,N.Y    MSIO 

(716)  173-4303 


[\ 


;\ 


i.EHI 


^rn 


'! 


k 


lS<i 


I  VNXKU  S    NAKHAIH  1.. 


tlioiigJi  I  \vas  livinir  at  a  distance  from  liim,  he  .sent  his  horse  ly 
ine,  and  ajrain  subsequently  to  Pembinali,  but  I  constiuitly  refused 
(o  accept  it.  Notwithstanding  my  steady  and  repeated  refusal,  I 
^vas  informed  lie  always  said  the  horse  belonged  to  me,  and  after 
his  death,  which  happeinpd  three  years  later,  the  other  traders 
(old  me  I  ought  to  take  the  horse ;  but  I  would  not,  and  it  fell 
into  the  hands  of  an  old  Frenchman.  After  the  death  of  Mr. 
Wells,  I  returned  to  the  North  West  Company,  and  traded  with 
them,  as  before :  but  never  while  he  lived.  If  he  had  shot  me, 
and  wounded  me  ever  so  severely,  I  should  have  been  less  of- 
fended with  him,  than  to  have  him  present  his  pistol,  as  he  did, 
lo  my  breast,  and  take  it  away  without  firing. 

Esh-ke-buk-ke-koo-sa,  a  chief  of  Leech  Lake,  came  after  this 
<o  Pembinali,  with  alioui  forty  young  men,  and  I  went,  by  invi- 
tation, from  the  Be-gwi-o-nus-ko,  with  others,  to  hear  him  give 
some  account  of  the  recent  revelation  from  the  Great  Spirit  to 
Manito-o-geezhik.  We  were  all  assembled  one  night  in  a 
long  lodge,  erected  for  the  purpose,  to  dance  and  feast,  and  lis- 
len  to  the  discourse  of  the  chief,  when  suddenly  we  heard  two 
guns,  in  quick  succession,  in  the  direction  of  the  North  West 
Company'strading-housc,  now  unoccupied,  except  by  two  French- 
men, who  had  that  day  arrived.  'I'he  old  men  looked  at  each 
other  in  doubt  and  dismay.  Some  said  the  Frenchmen  are  kill- 
ing wolves,  but  Esh-ke-l)uk-ke-koo-sa  said,  "  I  know  the  sound 
of  the  guns  of  the  Sioux."  The  night  was  very  dark,  but  all  the 
voung  men  took  their  arms  and  started  immediately,  and  1  among 
the  foremost.  Many  getting  entangled  among  logs  and  stumps, 
made  but  little  progress.  I  kept  the  path,  and  was  still  foremost, 
when  a  dark  figure  shot  past  me,  and,  at  the  same  moment,  I 
iicard  the  voice  of  the  Hlack  Duck,  saying,  neen-dow-in-nin-nr, 
(1  am  a  man.)  I  had  often  heard  of  the  prowess  of  this  man. 
and  in  one  instance  had  seen  him  at  the  Sioux  village,  at  (,'hief 
Vlountain,  lead  in  what  we  all  supposed  would  be  an  attack. 
Now  1  delennified  to  keep  near  him.  We  had  advanced  within 
.ibout  gun  shot  of  the  fort,  when  he  began  to  leap,  first  to  one 
<\(\(\  and  then  to  the  oilier,  thus  moving  in  a  zig/ag  line,  though 
lapidly,  towards  the  gate  of  the  fort.  I  followed  liis  example, 
,ind  when  he  leapt  into  the  open  gate  of  the  fort,  it  was  with  a 
•>in'pri)5inff  efi'ort   of  arlivily,  which  carried  his   feet   near  two 


I         r 


Ih 


Wf 


rANNtU  .S   NAllUAl'n  i;. 


i!?; 


hovse  ic^ 
y  refused 
refusal,  I 

aiul  after 
BV  traders 
uul  it  fell 
th  of  Mr. 
aded  with 
1  shot  me, 
en  less  of- 

as  he  did, 

B  after  this 
It,  by  invi- 
r  him  give 
at  Spirit  to 
night   in   a 
ast,  and  lis- 
hcard  two 
North  West 
.wo  Fronch- 
»ked  at  eacli 
nen  are  kiU- 
vv  the  sound 
i,  hut  all  the 
and  1  amonir 
and  stumps, 
lill  foremost. 
c  moment,  I 
)W-in-nin-nr. 
of  this  man. 
jre,    at  Chief 
)e  an  attack, 
anred  within 
first  to  one 
line,  though 
lis  example. 
I  was  with  a 
(  t   near  iwf' 


\ards  from  the  ground.  We  saw  witliin  llie  Ibrl  a  liniisc,  at  tin- 
window  .ind  door  of  whicli  we  perceived  a  hri'^iit  light.  Tli< 
JMack  Duck  had  a  huflaloe  robe  over  his  shoulders,  the  dark  co- 
lour of  which  enabled  him  to  jiass  tho  wiiidou'  undiscovered  by 
the  man  who  was  watching  within  ;  but  my  white  blanket  be- 
traying me,  the  muzzle  of  a  gun  was  instantly  presented  to  my 
head,  but  not  Uischarged,  for  the  Black  Duck  at  that  instant 
caught  in  his  arms  the  aH'righted  Kniuchman,  who  had  mistaUot 
me  for  one  of  the  Sioux,  and  was  in  the  act  of  firing  upon  mo. 
The  second  Frenchman  was  with  the  women  ami  children,  who 
were  all  lying  in  a  heap  in  th>'  corner  of  the  room,  crying  through 
fear.  It  appeared  that  the  one  who  was  watching  l)y  tlut  window, 
who  was  the  most  manly  of  the  two,  had,  a  i"ew  minutes  before. 
i)een  driving  his  horse  out  of  the  fort,  to  give  him  water,  when 
the  animal  had  been  shot  dead  in  the  gate  by  some  men  concealed 
near  at  hand.  He  at  first  thought  we  were  the  poo[)le  who  had 
:>hot  his  horse;  but  he  was  soon  convinced  of  his  error,  as  we  did 
not  even  know  that  the  body  of  the  horse  was  lying  at  the  gate. 
having  jumped  entirely  over  it  when  we  entered.  This  French- 
man would  not  leave  the  fort :  but  the  Black  Duck,  who  was  ii 
relative  of  one  of  the  women,  insiste.i  that  they  should  be  taken 
to  the  Indian  camp.  Others  of  our  young  men  had  by  this  tiin<^ 
come  up,  and  we  determined  to  watch  in  the  fort  all  night.  Next 
morning  wc  found  the  trail  of  the  two  men  who  had  crossed  tho 
Pembinah  river,  a  considerable  Mar  party  having  l)een  concealed 
on  the  other  side.  The  two  men  were  the  celebrated  Yauktong 
chief,  Wah-ne-tow,  ami  his  uncle.  They  had  concealed  them- 
selves near  the  gate  of  the  fort,  with  the  determination  to  shoot 
down  whatever  came  out  ;ir  went  in.  The  first  that  [)asse(l,  hap-- 
pening  to  be  the  Frenchmaii's  horse,  he  was  shot  down  ;  and  the 
two  men,  probably  without  knowing  whether  they  had  killed  man 
or  beast,  fled  across  the  river. 

When  it  was  ascertained  that  the  Sioux  war  party  was  not  ;i 
very  large  one,  many  were  disposed  to  pursue  after  it,  but  Ksh- 
ke-buk-ke-koo-sha  said,  "  not  so,  my  brethren  ;  Maiiito-o-geezhik. 
whose  messenger  I  am  to  you,  tells  us  we  must  no  more  gn 
against  our  enemies.  And  is  it  not  manifest,  that  in  this  instanco 
the  Great  Spirit  has  protected  us.  Had  the  Sicuiv  come  about 
our  lodge  when  we  were  fi'Hstinjr  >n  pecurify.  M'ithout  our  arm"- 


u 


,:i 


■4 


i»» 


TANM;K  -S    NA.RUA.TlMi. 


ill  our  hands,  liow  easily  inighl  they  huvc  killed  all  of  lis;  but 
ihey  were  misled,  and  made  to  mistake  a  Frenehman's  horse  for 
an  Ojibbeway.  80  will  it  continue  to  be,  if  we  are  obedient  to 
the  injunctions  we  have  received."  I  began  to  be  apprehensive 
for  my  family,  having  left  them  at  home,  and  fearing  that  the  Si- 
oux might  visit  them,  on  their  way  to  their  own  country.  "  Go," 
said  Esh-ke-l)uk-ke-koo-sha,  when  I  tohl  him  of  my  anxiety,  "  but 
do  not  fear  that  the  Sioux  can  do  any  injury  to  your  wife  or  chil- 
dren ;  but  I  wish  you  to  go,  that  on  your  return  you  may  bring 
me  your  medicine  bag,  and  I  shall  show  you  what  to  do  with  the 
contents."  I  did  accordingly,  and  he  ordered  the  contents  of  m\ 
medicine  bag,  except  the  medicines  for  war  and  hunting,  to  be 
thrown  into  the  tire.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  what  we  must  hence- 
forth do  ;  if  any  one  is  sick,  let  them  take  a  bowl  of  birch  bark, 
and  a  little  tobacco;  the  sick  person  himself,  if  he  is  able  to  walk, 
otherwise  his  nearest  relative,  and  let  them  go  to  the  nearest  run- 
ning water.  Let  the  tobacco  be  offered  to  the  stream,  then  dipj)iu(: 
(lie  bowl  in  the  same  direction  in  which  the  water  runs,  let  them 
take  a  little,  and  carry  it  home,  for  the  sick  person  to  drink.  But 
if  the  sickness  l)c  very  severe,  then  let  the  person  that  dips  up 
the  water,  plunge  the  bowl  so  deep  that  the  edge  of  it  shall  touch 
(he  mud  in  the  bottom  of  the  stream."  He  then  gave  me  a  small 
hoop  of  wood  to  wear  on  my  head  like  a  cap.  On  one  half  ol 
this  hoop,  was  marked  the  figure  of  a  snake,  whose  office,  as  the 
chief  told  me,  was  to  take  care  of  the  water ;  on  the  other  half, 
tlie  figure  of  a  man,  to  re()resent  the  (Jreat  Spirit.  This  band, 
or  fillet,  was  not  to  be  worn  on  ordinary  occasions — only  when  I 
.should  go  to  bring  water  for  some  of  my  family  or  friends  who 
f^hould  be  sick.  I  was  much  dissatisfied  at  the  destruction  of  the 
contents  of  my  medicine  bag,  many  of  them  being  such  roots  and 
other  substances,  as  I  had  found  useful,  in  the  disorders  incident 
to  my  situation ;  and  I  was  still  more  displeased,  that  we  were 
not,  henceforth,  to  be  allowed  to  use  these  remedies,  some  of 
which  I  knew  to  be  of  great  value.  But  all  the  Indians  of  the 
band  were  in  the  same  situation  with  myself,  and  I  was  com- 
pelled to  submit. 

When  the  spring  came  on,  I  went  to  fulfil  an  appointment  I 
liad  made  the  preceding  fall,  with  Sha-gwaw-ko-sink,  to  meet  him 
at  A  cert^i    place.     1  arrived  on  the  spot  at  the  time  appointed. 


I  ' 


r 


I   !■ 


Uis ;  bvtt 
horse  for 
lediem  to 
rohensivc 
lat  the  Si- 
•.     "Oo," 
iety, "  bvil 
ife  or  chil- 
may  bruig 
lo  with  the 
ents  of  my 
ting,  to  be 
lUSt  hence- 
birch  bark. 
)le  to  walk, 
learest  run- 
len  dipping 
lis,  let  them 
drink.  But 
that  dips  up 
,  shall  touch 
;  nic  a  small 
one  half  ot 
)frice,  as  the 
other  half. 
This  band, 
[only  when  I 
friends  who 
liction  of  the 
;h  roots  and 
ers  incident 
|hat  we  were 
[OS,  some  of 
Idians  of  the 
I  was  com* 

kpointment  I 
to  meet  him 
appointed. 


TANV'KR's    NARnATIVK. 


180 


and  shortly  afterwards,  the  old  man  came,  on  foot  and  alone,  to 
search  fur  me.  llv  had  encamped  about  two  miles  distant,  where 
he  bad  been  for  two  days,  and  tbey  had  plenty  of  fresh  meat, 
which  was  particularly  grateful  to  me,  as  for  some  time  past  I 
had  killeil  l)Ut  little. 

I  lived  with  him  during  the  summer.  Slia-gwaw-ko-sink  was 
now  too  old  and  feei)le  to  hunt;  but  he  had  some  young  men  with 
him,  who  ke|)t  him  supplied,  while  iraine  was  lobe  ha  I  ;  but  late 
in  the  fall,  the  hunting  grounds  about  us  liecame  poor.  The 
weather  was  very  cold,  and  the  ground  hard  frozen,  but  no  snow 
fell;  so  that  it  was  diflicult  to  follow  the  tracks  of  the  moose, 
and  the  noise  of  our  walking  on  hard  ground  and  dry  leaves,  gave 
the  animals  timely  .varning  of  our  a|)proacli.  This  state  of  things 
continuing  for  some  time,  we  were  all  reduced  nearly  to  starva- 
tiiiu,  and  had  recoiusc,  as  a  last  resort,  to  medicine  hunting. 
Half  the  night  I  smig  u-id  prayed,  and  then  lay  down  to  sleep. 
I  saw.  in  my  dream,  a  beautiful  young  man  come  down  through 
the  hole  in  the  top  of  my  lodge,  and  he  stood  directly  before  me. 
••  What,"  said  he,  "is  this  noise  and  crying  that  I  hear?  Do  I 
not  know  when  you  are  hunffry  and  in  distress  ?  I  look  down  upon 
you  at  all  times,  and  it  is  not  necessary  you  should  call  me  with 
such  loud  cries."  Then  pointing  directly  towards  the  sim's  setting, 
he  said,  "  do  you  see  those  tracks?"  "Yes,"  1  answered,  "  the\ 
are  the  tracks  t)f  two  moose."  "  I  sive  you  those  two  moose  to 
eat."  Then  poii\ting  in  an  opposite  direction,  to\vards  the  place 
of  the  sun's  rising,  lie  showed  me  a  bear's  track,  and  said,  "that 
nlso  I  give  you."  He  then  went  out  at  the  door  of  my  lodge,  and 
as  he  raised  the  blanket.  I  saw  that  snow  was  fallin<?  rapidly. 

I  very  soon  awoke,  and  feeling  too  much  excited  to  sleep,  I 
railed  old  Sha-gwaw-ko-sink  to  smoke  with  me,  and  then  pre- 
pared my  Muz-zin-ne-neen-suk,*  as  in  the  subjoined  sketch,  to  re- 

♦  MtiT-zin-TW-ncen,  mut-Tin-nf-nrcn-s'ii^ — siiiffuliir  and  plurn!.  Mrxhe-nin- 
nc-shdh,  Menhc-iiin-ni-sltuk — .MciiDiiinniiMliiiloft.  Tht'so  little  imiincs,  or  draw- 
ings,  tor  they  arc  called  by  Oie  same  iiaiiit'R,  wlirthor  of  carvpil  wood,  or  rags,  or 
onlv  rudely  sk."t('hrd  on  Inrrii  liark,  or  men  trai'cd  in  sand,  are  niuch  in  use  among 
si'veriil,  and  proiiably  all  the  Aluonkin  Irilx's.  Their  use  is  not  eontined  to  hunting, 
hut  extends  to  the  making  of  love,  and  the  irratifieation  of  hatred,  revenge,  and  all 
maliirnant  passions. 

It  is  a  prevailing  belief,  to  whirh  the  influene*  of  eBtabliahed  8U|iprBtition  has 
|hv  en  aaastorii»luiig  (wwvi,  that  the  necronwnccrn.  men  and  women  of  medicine. 


]■! 


JK^^" 


\m 


TANNER  9    KARRATfVK. 


i   i« 


irj 


% 


^ 


N 


« 

«) 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVE. 


JUl 


present  the  animals  whose  tracks  had  been  shown  me  in  iiiy 
dreani.  At  the  earliest  dawn,  I  started  from  the  lodge  in  a  heav^- 
i'all  of  .inow,  and  taking  the  course  pointed  out  to  me,  long  be- 
fore noon  I  fell  on  the  track  of  two  moose,  and  killed  them  both, 
a  male  and  a  female,  and  extremely  fat. 

or  those  who  arp  acquainted  with  the  hiilden  powers  of  their  wusks,  run,  l\v  pi'ac- 
tisins  u|)on  the  Muz-8iii-nc-neence,  exercise  an  unlimited  control  over  the  IkkIv  and 
mind  of  the  person  represented.  As  it  may  have  been,  in  former  times,  among  the 
people  of  our  rare,  iruiny  a  simple  Indian  <;irl  (rives  to  nomeeraftv  old  squaw  her 
most  valued  ornaments,  or  whatever  property  she  may  [)ossess,  to  purchase  from 
lirr  the  love  of  the  man  she  is  most  anxious  to  please.  The  old  woman,  in  a  casn 
of  this  kind,  commonly  makes  up  a  little  ima<ie  of  stained  wooil  and  ruffs,  to  which 
.«he  gives  the  name  of  the  )X'rson  whose  inclinations  she  is  expected  to  control ;  and 
to  the  heart,  the  eyes,  or  to  some  other  part  of  this,  she,  from  time  to  time,  ajjplies 
hrr  medicines,  or  professes  to  have  done  so,  as  she  may  lind  necessary  to  dupe  and 
encourage  her  credulous  employer. 

But  the  influence  of  these  images  and  conjurations,  is  more  frequently  tested  in 
rases  of  an  opposite  character ;  where  the  inciting  cause  is  not  love,  hut  hatred,  and 
the  object  to  be  attaintid,  the  gratification  of  a  deadly  revenge.  In  cases  of  this 
liiiid,  the  practices  are  similar  to  those  above  mentioned,  only  ditferent  medicines 
lire  used.  Sometimes  the  Muz-zin-ne-nnence  is  pricked  with  a  j)in,  or  needle,  in 
various  parts,  and  pain  or  disease  is  supjwsed  to  be  proiluced  in  the  corresponding 
prt  of  the  person  practised  upon.  Sometimes  they  blacken  the  hands  and  mouth 
f.t'  the  image,  and  the  effect  expected,  is  the  change  which  marks  the  near  ap- 
jiioach  of  death. 

In  the  sanguinary  chapter  of  the  Calica  Puran,  we  find  reference  to  a  similar 
^uporstition  among  the  Asiatics. 

'•  Let  a  figure  he  made,  either  of  barley  m(!al  or  earth,  representing  the  person 
with  who.m  the  sacrificer  is  at  variance,  and  the  head  of  the  figure  struck  ofi'. 
After  the  usual  texts  have  been  used,  the  following  is  to  be  used  in  invoking  th<^ 
;ixe  on  the  occasion  :  KffunK,  rffuse  blood !  be  terrific,  be  terrific .'  .n'i:e,  seize  ! 
destroy,  for  the  love  of  Ambica,  the  head  of  this  enemy.  Having  struck  ofl'  the 
bead,  let  him  present  it,  using  the  texts  laid  down  hereafter  f<)r  the  occasion,  con- 
iluiling  with  the  word  phat.  Water  must  Ik?  sprinkled  on  the  mral  or  earthen 
victim,  which  represents  the  sacrificer's  enemy,  using  the  text  conmiencing  with 
Rada,  draibaih,  (i.  e.  by  streams  of  blood,)  and  marks  must  be  made  on  the  fore- 
iiead  with  red  sanders ;  garlands  of  red  flowers  must  be.  j)Ut  round  the  neck  of  the 
image,  and  it  must  be  dre-^sed  in  red  garments,  tied  with  red  curds,  and  girt  with 
a  red  ginlle.  Then  placing  the  head  towards  the  north,  let  it  be  struck  olFwitli 
on  axe,  using  the  Si'anda  text." 

So  general  and  prevalent,  among  the  Indians,  is  the  confidence  in  the  efficacy 
(if  these  charms,  and  of  those  practised  by  means  of  a  hair  from  the  hcatl  of  the  in- 
U'luled  victim,  that  the  Wlicf  in  them,  lias  extended  to  many  of  the  more  igno- 
rant of  the  Canadi.  .s  who  reside  with  the  Indians,  and  even  to  some  of  tin-  (rii 
''•'IN   Instances  in  which  a  iiair  is  used  in  place  of  the  image,  or  niu/.-ziu-ne-neeni<- 


M 


?•*'■■ 'J-!?^ 


f'VT 


192 


tanner's  narhative. 


The  songs  used  on  occasion  of  those  medicine  hunts,  have  re- 
lation  to  the  religious  opinions  of  the  Indians.  They  are  often  ad- 
dressed to  Na-na-boo-shoo,  or  Na-na-bush,  whom  they  intreat  to 


i     .<; 


if 


u. 


are  frcquptitly  those  of  young  women  ;  and  various,  and  sometimes  dreadful,  are 
the  consequences  su|)|K)sed  to  result.  So  confident  are  the  representations  ol' 
whites,  and  tliose  even  of  some  shrewdness,  and  so  stronfi  the  lieliefot  the  Indiang, 
in  the  power  of  tliesc  drawings,  as  to  enlorco  the  conviction,  that  effects  have  been 
proiluced,  in  connexion  with  thes<'  mummeries,  eitlier  hy  the  intluence  ot'imagiiia- 
tion,  or  the  still  more  |iowert'ul  and  ci-rtain  operation  of  poison,  admini  ,tcred  se- 
cretly. Poisoning  is  a  crime  of  perhaps  greater  frequency  among  the  Indians,  than 
could  ha\e  been  ex|)ected  from  their  situation ;  and  they  attribute  ecjual  guilt  to 
the  poisoner,  whether  he  actually  and  craftily  administers  some  powerful  drug,  or 
whether,  at  the  distance  of  one  or  two  hundred  miles,  or  at  any  placi*,  however  re- 
)notc,  he  so  applies  medicine  to  the  Muz-zin-ne-neence,  or  to  a  hair,  as  to  produce 
pain,  8i('kness,  death,  or  other  .suirerinsi,  in  his  enemy.  The  inlluence  of  these 
superstitious  and  absurd  fears,  is  l)0un<lless,  and  would,  periiaps,  surpass  compre- 
hension and  bi-lief,  if  we  could  not  look  back  to  the  time,  when  the  minds  of  our 
own  race  were  similarly  enthralled  ;  and  when  the  dread  of  supernatural  powers,  in 
the  hands  of  the  malicious  or  the  en\ious,  formed  one  among  the  most  s(>rious  and 
real  evils,  in  the  hie  even  of  the  most  enlightened  and  inde|>endent.  Many  cases 
of  sudden  sickness  ocrur  among  them,  arul  many  deaths  hap|H-n  entirely  in  tiic 
way  of  nature,  which  they,  l)eiiiu;  vnnorant  of  the  true  cause,  attribute  to  poison,  ur 
more  frequently  to  bad  medicine  ;  but  enough  of  well  authenticated  instances  exist 
to  {)rove  that  they,  in  some  cases,  practice  upon  each  other  by  poison  ;  sometinip^ 
using  such  noxious  jilants,  or  other  substances,  as  their  own  country  affords,  and 
in  other  instances  prorurinsi  ars<'nic,  or  other  drugs,  from  the  whites.  To  destroy 
life  in  this  way,  is  perfectly  in  accordance  with  their  ideas  of  bravery,  or  tough- 
ness of  heart,  (Soiig-ge-d.i-win ;)  he  being  often  esteemed  the  braveft  nian,  wiio 
destroys  his  enemy  with  least  risk  to  his  own  life. 

The  C'hippcwyans,  wliose  bleak  and  inhospitable  country,  affords  neither  hircli 
bark  or  other  similar  article,  indeed  nothing  from  the  vegetable  kingdom  to  serve 
as  a  substitute  for  the  birch  bark,  and  whose  extreme  rudeness  has  left  them  igno- 
rant of  any  method  of  pre])aring  from  stones  or  earth,  any  thing  suitable  to  wile 
or  delineate  figures  upon,  use,  in  their  i)reparafions  for  the  me<licine  hunt,  tin; 
scapular  bone  of  the  rein  deer,  or  such  other  animals  as  are  found  in  their  country. 
With  an  apparent  poverty  of  languatre,  corresfKinding  to  the  meagerness  of  tlii'ir 
.soil,  and  the  bluntness  of  their  intellects,  they  denominate  the  drawing  used  in 
this  kind  of  hunting,  Kl-kul-lah  ki-ecf-ze,  (th^  shoulder  blade  Iwne.)  It  woulil 
apj)ear,  also,  that  tiie  accopijHinying  ceremonies  of  this  su|)erstition  are  pro|K)rtii)ii' 
ably  rude  and  inartificial.  After  awkwardly  sketcliing  the  rein  deer,  or  whatevf; 
unimalthey  may  happen  to  consider  as  indicated  to  them  by  their  dream,  they  cast 
the  bone  on  which  the  dniwinj;  is  made  into  the  fire,  if,  by  chance,  they  hnjiifn 
to  have  one  ;  and  this  fulfils  all  those  imjiorfant  ends,  whi  'li,  in  the  imasrination  of 
the  Ojibbewiiv  hunter,  are  de|K'ndant  u|)on  the  proper  application  of  his  mecticinci:| 
iind  the  patient  chanting  of  his  prayer*:. 


r^ 


'  '.4 


V 


I'AXNKR's    NARRATlVt;. 


mi 


,  have  i'«- 

»  often  ad- 

intreat  to 

dreadful,  aiP 
5i-ntatioi\s  ol' 
,( tlie  Indians, 
■cts  havf  iH'en 
cc  ot  ima|Tina- 
iniiii.tercd  sc- 
>  Indians,  than 
'  P(iual  guilt  to 
verful  drug,  or 
Tie,  however  rc- 
r,  as  to  produce 
luence  of  these 
;ur\>ass  compre- 
w  mindt*  of  ouv 
tural  powers,  in 
nost  serious  and 
Lt.     Many  cases 
I  entirely  in  tho 
3uU-  to  pois*)n,  ur 
d  instances  exist 
lison  ;  sometimcj 
ntry  affords,  and 
iites.    To  destroy 
ravery,  or  tovigh- 
raveft  man,  wlw 

irds  neither  hireh 
kingdom  to  serve 
as  left  Ihem  igno- 
auitahle  to  wito 
licine  hunt,  tin 
in  their  oountn . 
oatrerness  of  tlifir 
drawing  usi'din 
\>one.)     It  would 
in  are  pro|>ortion- 
deer,  or  whatever 
ir  dream,  they  cast 
anee,  they  hnpiicn 

;he  imaiiinii'i""  °^ 
mofhismedicuiff, 


he  their  interpreter,  and  coininnniciite  tlunr  reqiiesls  to  tlie  Su- 
preme ;  oftentimes,  also,  to  Me-suk-kum-mik  0-k\vi,  or  the 
earth,  the  great-ifiand-mother  of  all.  In  these  sonsrs,  they  relate 
h(»w  Na-na-bush  created  the  ground,  in  obedience  to  the  com- 
niands  of  the  Great  SSpiril,  and  how  all  ihinirs  for  the  use,  and  to 
.sup|ily  tiic  wants  of  the  uncles  and  aunts  of  Na-na-bush,  (by  which 
live  meant  men  and  women,)  were  committed  to  the  care  and 
Keeping  of  the  great  mother.  J\a-na-bush,  ever  the  benevolent 
intercessor  between  the  Supreme  Being  and  mankind,  procured  to 
be  created  for  their  benefit,  llit>  animals  whose  flesh  should  be  for 
their  food,  and  whose  skins  were  for  their  cloiliing.  He  sent 
ilown  roots  and  nu'dicines,  of  sovereign  power,  to  heal  their  sick- 
)iesses,  ami  in  times  of  hunger,  to  enable  them  to  kill  the  animals 
of  the  chase.  All  these  things  were  committed  to  the  care  of 
Me-suk-kmn-mik  O-kwi ;  and  that  his  uncles  and  aunts  miglit  never 
call  on  her  in  vain,  the  old  woman  was  directed  to  ri'main  con- 
stantly at  home  in  her  lodge.  Hence  it  is,  that  good  Indians  nevev 
dig  up  the  roots  of  which  their  medicines  are  made,  without  at 
the  same  time  depositing  in  the  earth  something  as  an  offering  to 
3Ie-suk-kum -mik  O-kwi.  They  sing  also,  how,  in  former  times, 
the  Great  Spirit  having  killed  tl\e  brother  of  Na-na-l)ush,  the 
latter  was  angry,  and  strengthened  himself  against  the  Su[)reme. 
Na-na-bush  waxed  stronger  and  stronger,  and  was  likely  to  prc- 
va  against  Gitch-e-manilo,  when  the  latter,  to  appease  him,  gave 
him  the  Me-tai.  With  this,  i\a-na-bush  was  so  pleased,  that  he 
brought  it  down  to  his  uncles  and  aunts  on  the  earth. 

Many  of  these  songs  are  noted  down,  by  a  method  probably 
peculiar  to  the  Indians,  on  birch  bark,  or  small  flat  pieces  of 
wood ;  the  ideas  being  conveyed  by  end)lematic  figures,  some- 
what like  those  before  mentioned,  as  used  in  counnunicating  or- 
dinary information. 

Two  years  previous  to  this  time,  a  man  of  our  band,  called  Aiji- 
kaw-ba-wis,  a  (piiet  and  rather  insignillcaiit  person,  ai>  >  poor 
hunter,  lost  his  wife  by  death  ;  and  his  cliildreii  began,  even  iiiore 
than  formerly,  to  sutlisr  of  hunger.  The  death  of  his  wife  was 
attended  with  peculiar  circumstances,  and  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  became 
melancholy  and  despondent,  which  we  attributed  to  the  sluggish- 
ness of  his  disposition ;  but  he  at  length  called  the  chiefs  to- 
gether, and  vvitii  much  solemnity,  announced  to  them  that  he  had 


lill 


HI 


'^^  ■     !       A' 


wm 


194 


iANNKK  M    NARKAllVh, 


been  favoured  by  a  new  rovclaliou  from  the  (ircat  JSpint.  He 
.showed  thciii  a  round  ball  of  earth,  about  four  or  five  inches  in 
diameter,  or  more  than  half  as  large  as  a  man's  head,  rolled 
j-ound  anil  smooth,  and  smeared  with  red  j)aint.  "  The  Great 
Spirit,"  said  he,  "as  I  sat,  from  day  to  day,  cryinjf,  and  praying, 
and  singing  in  my  lodge,  at  last  callei!  to  me,  and  said,  '  Ais- 
Jiaw-ba-wis,  I  have  heard  vour  prayers,  1  have  seen  the  mats  in 
your  lodge  wet  with  yoiu-  tears,  and  have  listened  to  your  re- 
qtiest.  I  give  you  this  ball,  and  as  you  see  it  is  clean  and  new,  I 
give  it  to  you  for  your  business  to  make  the  whole  earth  like  it, 
even  as  it  was  when  Na-iia-i)ush  first  made  ii.  All  old  things 
must  be  destroyed  and  done  away  ;  every  thing  must  be  made 
anew,  and  to  your  hands,  Ais-kaw-ba-wis,  I  commit  this  great 
work.' " 

I  was  among  those  wliom  he  called  in  to  listen  to  this  iirst  an- 
nunciation of  his  mission.  It  was  not  until  after  he  dismissed 
us  that  I  said  any  thing  ;  but  then,  in  conversation  with  my 
companions,  I  soon  betrayed  my  want  of  credulity.  "  It  is 
well,"  said  I,  "  that  wc  may  be  made  acquainted  with  tlie  whole 
mind  and  will  of  the  Great  S|)irit,  at  so  cheap  a  rate.  Wc 
have  now  these  divinely  taught  instructors  springing  up  among 
ourselves,  and,  fortunately,  such  men  as  are  worth  nothing  for 
any  other  purpose.  The  Shawnee  prophet  was  far  off.  Kc- 
zhi-ko-we-ninne  and  Manito-o-geezhik,  though  of  our  own  tribe, 
were  not  with  us  ;  they  were  also  men  ;  but  here  we  have  one 
too  poor,  and  indolent,  and  spiritless,  to  feed  his  own  family,  yet 
he  is  made  the  instrument,  in  the  hand  of  the  Great  Spirit,  as  he 
would  have  us  believe,  to  renovate  the  whole  earth."  I  had  al- 
ways entertained  an  imfavourable  opinion  of  this  man,  as  I  knew 
him  to  be  one  of  the  most  worthless  among  the  Indians,  and  I 
now  felt  indignant  at  his  attempt  to  pass  himself  upon  us  as  a 
chosen  and  favoured  messenger  of  the  Supreme  Spirit.  I  hesi- 
tated not  to  ridicule  his  pretensions  wherever  I  went ;  but  not- 
withstanding that  bad  luck  constantly  attended  him,  he  gained  a 
powerful  ascendancy  over  the  minds  of  the  Indians.  Ilis  inces- 
sant beating  of  his  drum  at  night,  scared  away  the  game  from 
our  neighbourhood,  and  his  insolent  hypocrisy  made  him  offen- 
sive to  me,  at  all  times  ;  but  he  had  found  the  way  to  control 
the  minds  of  many  of  the  people,  and  all  my  efforts  in  opposition 
to  him  were  in  vain. 


't'S^ 


-■f*-^... .  - 


-.-■■■  .r^errrara  .   •^y.^ajy  '  _ 


TANNEK  S    NAllUAI'lV  1 


lur. 


s  first  aii- 

with  m> 
»  It  if 
the  whole 
rate.     We 
up  among 
nothing  for 
r  off.     Kc- 
own  tribe, 
e  have  one 
family,  yet 
Spirit,  as  he 
I  hail  al- 
,,  as  1  Unev 
lians,  ami  I 
pon  us  as  a 
lit.     I  hesi- 
|it;  but  not- 
he  gained  a 
His  inces- 
game  from 
him  offeu- 
ly  to  control 
n  opposition 


i)i\  one  oeeasion,  wliile  \vc  reiTMined  at  ihir;  placo,  and  hvn\ 
been  suffering  some  d.iys  I'ntin  liiiniier,  I  went  out  to  hunt,  and 
wounded  a  moose.  On  my  return,  I  related  this,  and  said  1  be- 
lieved the  moose  was  so  hadly  wouiuled  that  lie  must  die.  Ivirlj 
next  morniup,  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  came  to  my  lodtrc,  ami,  with  tlu 
utmost  seriousness  iti  his  manner,  said  to  me,  tliat  the  Great 
Spirit  had  been  down,  and  told  him  of  the  moose  I  had  wound- 
ed. "  He  is  now  dead,"  said  he,  "  and  you  will  lind  him  in 
such  a  place.  It  is  the  will  of  tlie  (ireal  Spirit  that  he  shoidd  be 
broujrht  here  and  cooked  for  a  sacrifice."  1  ihougiit  it  not  im- 
j)robable  tlat  tlu^  moose  was  killed,  and  went  in  search  of  him 
accordingly,  Init  I  found  he  was  not  dead.  This  a  Horded  me 
another  opportunity  to  ridicule  the  pretensions  of  Ais-kaw-bn- 
wis  ;  but  all  seemed  in  no  degree  to  impair  the  confidence  of  tiie 
Indians.  Verj'^  shortly  nflerwards,  it  ha|)pened  that  I  again 
Avmnided  a  moose,  and  went  liome  williout  i>etling  it.  "This," 
said  Ais-kaw-ba-wis,  "is  the  moose  which  the  Great  Spirit  sliow- 
ed  me."  So  i  went  out  and  brought  him  in,  and  as  I  knew  man\ 
of  the  Indians  were  hungry,  I  was  willing  to  make  a  feast,  though 
not  out  of  deference  to  Ais-kaw-ba-wis.  As  we  were  too  few  in 
number  to  consume  all  the  meat,  we  cut  it  off  the  hours,  and 
these  were  heaped  up  before  Ais-kaw-ba-wis,  care  l)eing  taken 
tliat  not  one  of  them  should  be  broken.  Tliey  were  afterwards 
carried  to  a  safe  place,  and  hung  up  out  of  the  reach  of  the  dogs 
or  wolves,  as  no  bone  (»f  an  animal  offered  in  this  way  nuist,  by 
any  means,  be  broken.  On  the  following  day,  I  killed  another 
fat  moose,  on  which  occasion  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  made  a  long  ad- 
dress to  the  Great  Spirit,  and  afterwards  said  to  me,  "  You  see, 
my  son,  how  your  goodness  is  rewarded  ;  \-ou  jrave  the  first 
you  killed  to  the  Spirit;  he  will  take  care  you  shall  not  want." 
Next  day  I  went  with  my  brother-in-law,  and  we  killed  each  one. 
and  now  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  extillerl  much  in  the  efficacy  of  the  sa- 
crifice he  had  caused  me  to  make,  and  his  ascendancy  over  the 
superstitious  minds  of  the  Indians  was  confirmed.  Notwith- 
standing this  higli  degree  of  favour  he  had  <d)tained  by  his  cun- 
ning, he  was  a  man  who,  once  in  his  life,  had  eaten  his  own  wife 
for  hunger,  ami  whom  the  Indians  would  then  have  killed  as  one 
unworthy  to  live. 

When  the  snow  began  to  harden  on  the  top,  at  the  approadi 


'A 


^  . 


M: 


>,> 


!|1, 


ill' 


i     it 


\' 


V^  X 


liti; 


IANNKR's    NAKKAl'IVl. 


of  the  sprino-,  the  men  oC  our  Iniiid,  Sha-<nvnu'-koo-siiik,  Wau 
/ht'-<finv-iTiai-!li-ko(>ii,  Ha-|)o-\vasli.  (Jisli-knii-ko.  myscll',  and  somr 
ollu'i's,  went  to  make  a  liuntinjr  vnmp  a»  sonic  distanco,  f(»r  the 
purpose  of  tnakinir  dry  moat,  and  left  only  Ais-kaw-ba-w  is  at 
liomi;  witli  llic  vvonun.  We  kill»'<l  mncli  <:ann>,  as  it  is  very 
easy  to  lake  moose  and  elk  at  lliat  season;  tlio  erust  on  ilir 
snow,  while  il  will  hear  a  man,  alnntsl  (lej)iives  them  of  the 
power  of  motion.  Al  leiiir'Ji,  (iish-kau-ko  went  home  to  see  his 
faniilv,  and  on  his  return  he  hroujrht  me  a  little  tobacco  troin 
Ais-kaw-ba-wis,  with  this  messajne,  "  Your  life  is  in  danger." 
"  My  life,"  said  I,  "  belongs  neither  to  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  nor  my- 
self; it  is  in  the  hands  of  the  (Jreat  Spirit,  and  when  he  sees  fit  to 
place  it  in  dantrer,  or  brinir  it  to  an  end,  I  shall  have  no  cause  to 
complain  ;  but  I  cannot  believe  that  he  has  revealed  any  part  of 
his  intentions  to  so  worthless  a  man  as  yVis-kaw-ba-wis."  Fiul 
this  intimation  alarnied  all  the  Indians  who  were  with  me,  and 
they  made  the  best  of  their  way  to  the  place  where  Ais-kaw-I)a- 
wis  was  encamped  with  the  women.  1  took  a  circuitous  route 
by  myself,  to  visit  some  of  my  traps,  and  havinnf  caught  an  otter. 
I  took  him  on  my  i)ack,  and  arrived  at  home  s(une  time  aflci 
them.  Here  I  found  all  our  lodges  converted  into  one  largi 
one;  the  women  and  children,  together  with  the  men  who  had 
arrived  long  before  me,  were  shivering  with  cold  by  a  fire  in  tlir 
open  air.  When  I  inipiired  the  meaning  of  all  this,  they  told 
me  that  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  was  preparing  for  some  im|)ortant  com- 
munication to  be  given  through  him  from  the  (Jieat  Spirit.  M( 
had  been  a  long  time  in  preparing  the  lodge,  during  wliich  ever\ 
one  was  excluded,  and  he  had  arran<red  that  at  a  certain  siiinal 
Ba-po-wash,  who  was  to  lead  the  dance,  should  enter,  and  tlu 
others  were  to  follow  him,  and  after  having  danced  four  times 
around  the  lodge,  to  sit  down,  each  in  his  place.  Hearing  this, 
I  immediately  entered  the  long  lodge,  and  throwing  down  my 
otter,  seated  myself  by  the  fire,  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  gave  me  one 
angry  and  malicious  look,  then  closed  his  eyes,  and  affected  lu 
go  on  with  a  prayer  that  I  had  interrupted.  After  s«nne  time,  he 
began  to  drum  and  sing  aloud,  and  at  the  third  interval  of  si- 
lence, which  was  the  signal  agreed  upon  with  Ba-po-wash,  th( 
latter  came  dancing  in,  followed  by  men,  women,  and  children; 
and  after  circling  the  lodge  four  times,  they  all  sat  down  in  their 


■L. 


■IANNKR's    XAKUATIVi;. 


ur, 


plare:^.  For  a  fow  momonts  all  was  sileiirr,  wliilo  Ais-kaw-ba- 
wis  roiitiniird  siltiiiir  with  liis  eyes  closod,  in  tlic  middle  of  tin 
lodnc,  by  a  spot  oC  smooth  and  suit  irroiind,  wliich  he  had  pro- 
()ar('d,  lilvP  that  iiscd  by  the  war  chill's  in  their  Ko-zati-biin-zitch- 
f'-kiiii ;  then  he  betran  to  call  the  men,  one  l)y  one,  to  come  and 
jiit  down  by  him.  I/ist  of  ail,  lie  called  me,  and  I  went  and  sat 
down  as  he  directed.  Then  addressing  himself  to  me,  he  said, 
"  Sliaw-shaw-wa  ne-ba-sc,  my  son,  it  is  |)rol)al)le  yon  will  now 
be  iVififhteneil.  as  I  have  very  un|)leasant  inluniialion  to  jrive  you. 
Tlif  (Jreat  Spirit  has,  as  yon,  my  friends,  all  know,  in  former 
times,  faV(nn'e(l  me  with  the  free  coinmiiuication  of  his  mind  and 
will;  lately  he  has  been  pleased  to  show  me  what  is  to  happen 
to  each  of  us  in  fntini-.  For  you,  my  friends,  [to  Slia-juwaw-go- 
ntick  and  the  (ither  Indians,]  who  have  been  careful  to  rejrard 
and  obey  the  injunrtions  of  tiie  (ireat  Spirit,  as  conniiunicated  by 
me,  to  each  of  you  he  has  <riven  to  live  to  the  full  aj^e  of  num : 
ihi;  loniT  and  straitjlu  line  is  the  imatfe  of  your  several  lives.  For 
you,  Sbaw-shaw-wa  le-ba-se,  who  have  turned  aside  from  the 
rijrht  |>ath.  and  despised  the  admonitions  you  have  received,  thi- 
short  and  crooked  line  represents  your  life.  Yon  are  to  attain 
only  to  half  of  the  full  aije  of  man.  This  line,  turning;  off  on 
the  other  side,  is  that  which  shows  what  is  determined  in  rela- 
tion to  the  yountf  wife  of  Ba-po-wash."  As  he  said  this,  he 
showed  us  the  marks  he  had  made  on  the  irround,  as  below.  The 
lonsr,  straiirht  liiu*,  a,  representino;,  as  he  said,  the  life  of  the  In- 
dians, Sha-jrvvaw-koo-sink,  VVan-zhe-gaw-maish-koon,  &c.  The 
short  crooked  one,  /),  showing  the  irregular  course  and  short  con- 


}    I. 


11 

Li. 


^gig^ 


I9ii 


lANNKR  S  XARRATIVt. 


tinuance  of  mine;  and  the  abniplly  terminating  one  on  tlie  oiiai 
side,  showinj^f  tlic  life  of  llie  favourite  wife  of  Ba-po-wash.     li 
liappeiied   that   Ba-po-wash  Iiad  ch-ied  tfie  clioice  i»arts   of  a  fit; 
bear,  intendiiiir,   in  the   spring,  to  make  u  feast  to  his  medicine; 
and   a  iew  days  previous  to  ihi-  tiii;e;  'vhile  we  were  absent  at 
our  hunting  eanip,  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  iiad  suiii   lo  the  old  woinun, 
the  mother  of  Ba-pu-washV  wife,  "  'I'lie  tireat  S])irit  has  si<fnifieil 
to  ine,  that  all  lliiiiiis  are  not  as  they  should  be;  send  out  and  sec. 
therefore,  if  liie  fat  bear  wliieli  your  son  has  hung  U|»  for  a  fcasi 
to  his  niedieine,  is  all  where  it  was  hit.'"     She  went  out  acconl- 
ingly,  and  found  that  the  feel  of  the  l)ear      ere  gone,  Ais-kaw- 
ba-wis   himself,   who    was  a  great    gl   Hon,   having  stolen  them, 
This    .as    now    lusak'    known    to  B>i-po-wash,  who  was  niucii 
a'arnied   at  the  threatened  evil,  and  to  avert  it  he   not  only  gavr 
Ais-kaw-ba-wis  the  remai'i  er  of  ilie  l)ear,  but  a  large  f|uantily  (il 
marrow  he  had  saved    for  his  least,  and  other  valual)le  preseiil-, 
After  this,  we  started  In  eonie  to  an  island  railed  Me-nau-z!ic 
taw-naun,  in  t!ie  Lake  of  the  Woods,  wher-'  we  had  rtniplirU-d  t.. 
jdant  e<un,  instead  of  our  <dd   fields,  at  Dead  River.     On  our 
vay  we  sto|)pe    at  a  plaee  t  ■  make  sugar;  then  v      went  to  visit 
the    traders,   Icavinu  Ais-kaw-ba-wis   with    our  women.  hn]i- 

peued  that  the  wife  of  (Jish-kau-ko  had  left  her  eltle  at  the  sii- 
gai  ramp,  some  distaiiec  from  the  plare  where  they  were  td 
wait  for  our  return.  Sometime  after  the  men  had  gone,  Ai.»- 
kaw-ba-wis,  who  lived  by  himself,  in  a  little  lodge,  pretendina  \i> 
be  00  holy  to  go  into  a  ■■  nun  n  hol!^e,  or  to  ingle  with 
men  in  their  ordinary  pursuits,  sent  for  the  wife  of  (lish-kau-lvn. 
and  when  she  eame  to  him,  he  said.  "  The  Great  Spirit  is  iki: 
pleased  that  yon  should  abandon  and  lose  your  pro|)erty.  (.ie, 
therefore,  aiul  get  thi'  kettle  that  ymi  ha  e  left  at  the  suiiiii 
eantp."  The  W(Mnan  obeyed;  :ind  he,  soon  after  she  had  left  iIk 
ramp,  took  his  yun,  and  under  the  pretence  of  going  t )  hunt, 
went  out  in  a  dlH'erenl  directi(»u;  but  lie  bud  no  sooner  got  out 
of  sight  of  the  lodtres,  than  he  turned,  and  by  a  <'rruitous  routr 
enme  upon  the  track  of  the  wife  of  ('ish-knu-Vo.  She,  who  hiid 
been  before  annoyed  l)y  his  particular  attentions,  and  siirmiscii 
the  real  object  he  had  in  view,  in  sending  her  for  the  kettle,  kept 
a  look  out  behind  her,  ami  when  «he  snw  him  come  running  after 
her.  she  bfgau  to  run  also.     .Inst  at  this  lime  I  wnn  returninir 


I   , 


,^f^ 


the  ollifi 
\vasl\.     It 

■;    ol'  a    I'll  I 

iiu'ilioinc  -, 
abst'iil  at 

tl    WOllliUl, 

IS  sigiiilicil 
ml  and  !<('C, 

ft)!-  a  tVusi 
jul  acctii-d- 
,  Ais-kuw- 
oleii  llu'm. 

was  nuii'l' 
I  only  ijavc 

(|U!iiitity  ol 

lie   |H•^>S^Mlt^. 

Me-navi-z!u 
'onclu'lcil  til 
:^r.  On  (tur 
wont  to  vi.^ii 
rn.  '■  1»"1'- 
le  at  the  su- 
n>y  were  U< 

•otonilinti  '" 
iiiglo  wiili 
is!i-lvaii-l>" 
)irit  is  no\ 
)crly.  t^«" 
tlic   svi!:;iir 

liiul  ll'l'l  till 

HIT  I  1  hunt 
ncr  !i"t  "tit 
viilcnis  nttitc 
It',  who  liixl 
ntl  snnnisotl 
ketllc,  Ivt'pt 


IV' 


rnnning 


aClti- 


fnn  rftnrninir 


XANNI^Ii  S    NAUKATIM.. 


iity 


from  the  trading-house  u  itli  the  other  [ndiaiis,  w  lion  we  descried 
this  chase  at  a  distance.  It  occasioned  us  much  alarm,  when 
wc  saw  first  a  woman,  then  a  man,  running  with  so  inu<'h  appa- 
rent earnestness ;  we  thought  notliing  less  than  thai  tiic  Siuux 
had  come  to  the  country,  and  were  murdering  our  women  and 
thildren.  But  when  we  came  a  little  marer,  the  pretended  pro- 
phet gave  over  his  pursuit  of  the  woman,  and  came  and  sal  down 
with  us,  to  drink  of  the  rum  which  the  Indians  hail  bruughl  from 
thf  inuhng-iiouse,  ami  which  they  gave  him  very  liberally.  The 
woman  was,  however,  a  iter  her  arrival  at  home,  compelled  to 
irive  some  account  of  the  race,  and  she  acknowledged  that  Ais- 
kiiw-ba-wis  had  often  sought  similar  opporluinlies  to  be  alone 
ivitli  her,  though  such  was  her  fear  of  him  that  she  never  dared 
make  any  disclosure,  or  offer  any  other  resistance  than  an  at- 
tempt to  escape  by  flight.  This  discovery  occasional  no  dis- 
tiiibance,  and  seemed,  in  no  degree,  to  diminish  the  inllneiuc  of 
\is-kaw-ba-wis,  A  large  proportion  of  the  rum  we  had  broniihl 
Iroin  the  trading-house  was  seta|»art  lor  him,  but  when  the  prin- 
cipal man  among  us  sent  lor  him  to  come  and  receive  it,  he  re- 
turned for  answer,  that  he  could  not  come.  "  Ttdl  the  chief," 
faid  he,  "  that  if  he  has  any  business  with  me,  he  em  come  to 
my  lodge."  The  liijuor  was  accordingly  carried  to  him  ;  but 
its  effect  seemed  to  render  his  ilisp  i-ilion  somewhat  more  social 
and  condescending,  for  about  the  middh-  of  the  night  he  came 
staggering  into  the  lodge  where  I  was,  without  the  least  cover- 
ing on  any  part  of  his  body.  To  mr  bis  a|ipearance  was  ludi- 
iTOiis  in  the  extreme,  and  1  did  not  refrain  from  a  good  deal  of 
irreverent  merriment  (m  the  occasion. 

After  this,  we  came  to  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  where  1  hunt- 
nl  for  about  a  month,  then  went  back  into  the  country  I  had  left, 
ill  the  Indians  remainint>  behind  to  clear  the  ground  where  thev 
iiilcnded  j)lantingcorn  at  Me-naii-zhe-laii-nauiiir.  I  now  began  to 
experience  the  inconveniences  resulting  from  having  incurred 
lilt'  ill  will  of  Ais-kaw-ba-wis.  Itoitwas  who  prejudiced  the 
Indians  so  much  a,  ainst  me,  and  particularly  the  relatives  of  my 
wife,  that  my  situation  at  Me-nau-z'ie-tau-itainiif  was  uncomforta- 
bir,  and  I  was  compellpti  to  return  to  Hed  Kiver. 

It  was  about  this  time  thiit  the  Scots  people,  to  the  numlier  of 
tne  hundred  or  more,  ar  '"'^d  to  settle  at  Uod  Kiver,  under  tin 


■I' 


y       1 


r- •! 


4  11  • 


|ini^  ! 


f  1*         •' 


Ik 


•JOO 


tanner's  NAKRATIVt, 


protection  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and  amon^  these  I 
«a\v,  for  the  first  time  in  many  years,  since  I  had  become  a  man, 
a  white  woman.  Soon  after  my  arrival,  I  was  taken  into  tlie 
employment  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  and  Mr.  Hanie,  the 
agent,  sent  nie,  accompanied  bv  Mr.  licss,  an  interjjreter,  and 
some  men,  to  kill  builiiioe.  The  butJiilof  were,  at  that  time,  ai  a 
gre.il  distance,  and  the  Scots  people  in  great  distress  for  want  of 
provisions.  I  hajjjjened  to  lind  and  kill  two  bulls  near  home, 
and  after  sending  back  the  nu'at,  1  went  on  to  the  herds. 

I  had  hunted  here  a  few  days,  when  our  number  was  increased 
to  four  clerks  and  about  twenty  men,  the  latter  employed  in 
bringing  in  the  meat  I  killed  to  my  lodge,  whence  it  was  carried 
in  carts  to  the  settlement.  All  of  these  lived  in  my  lodge  ;  but 
one  of  the  clerks,  named  IM'Donald,  was  very  abusive  to  iiiy  wile 
and  children.  Mr.  Hess  repeatedly  checked  him  for  this  cou- 
dud,  but  as  lie  continued  it,  lie  coiiijilained  t(j  Mr.  Ilaiiie,  wlm 
sent  M'Donald  to  a  place  several  miles  distant,  where  the  In- 
dians had  killed  about  twenty  bufUiloes,  which  it  was  not  eon- 
venient,  at  present,  to  bring  out,  and  there  he  remained  by  him- 
self for  two  mouths,  having  no  oilier  occupation  m  amusement 
than  to  scare  the  widves  away  from  the  meat.  Mr.  M'Ken/ic 
was  one  of  the  three  remaining  clerks  who  lived  in  my  loi'go. 
and  he  was  so  ditlbrent  from  M'Domild,  that  at  the  end  of  foiii 
months,  when  the  greater  part  of  the  peojile  were  called  in  to 
the  .MUtleinent,  he  stdicited  and  obtained  from  Mr.  Hanie  j)cr 
mission  to  remain  lonncr  wilii  me,  to  improve  hi  self  in  tlu 
Ojibbeway  language,  and  he  did  not  leave  me  until  after  the 
sugar  season. 

I  killed,  in  the  four  months  ihat  I  hnnted  for  the  HudsonV 
Bav  Company,  about  one  hundred  butlaloes ;  bill  as  part,  or  nil 
of  many  of  these  were  eaten  in  my  own  lodge,  I  d«'liveied  onl) 
forty  entire  and  fat  ones  (o  the  company's  jieople,  for  which 
Mr.  Hanie  |mi<l  me,  in  the  spring,  three  hundred  and  ten  dollar>. 
Those  Scots  labi'iirers  who  were  with  me,  were  much  mon 
rough  and  brutal  in  their  mannrrs  than  any  (leople  I  had  before 
seen.  F.veii  when  ihey  had  plenty,  they  ate  like  starved  ilogs, 
und  never  failed  to  ipiarrel  o\er  llu'ir  meat.  The  clerks  fie- 
ipiently  lieat  and  punished  them,  but  ihey  would  still  (juarrel. 

Mr.  Hanie,  and  the  ftovernor  for  the  Hudson's  Bay'.**  Conip!' 


I 


0H 


»-«B.3r    "-^ag" 


lANNKR  S    NAUKATIVJ:;, 


*^i 


r  these  I 
ic  a  man, 
into  the 
[anic,  the 
eler,  and 
tiiae,  ai  a 
,r  want  ol" 
ear  home, 

s. 

,  iiirrcased 

iployecl  in 
vas  carrunl 
lodge  -,  but 

to  :uy  wife 
,1'  iliiri  <"un- 
llanie,  wlio 
liere  the  In- 
viis  not  t'on- 
ned  V)y  liim- 

aniurtemenl 

Ir.  M'Wenzie 

in  my  lot'u,p. 

.  Olid  ol'  foiM 

called  ill  t" 

Hanie  jum- 

sell'  in   tlu 

jilil  alter  thi' 


tiy,  proposed  to  me  to  hiiild  ine  a  lionse,  and  engage  me  perma- 
nently in  their  employment:  but  I  delayed  aeeepiing  their  otl'er, 
as  I  thouglit  it  doubtful  whether  llieir  attempt  at  settling  the 
country  would  finally  sneceed.  Some  of  the  Indians  whom  I 
liad  left  at  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  had  followed  me  out,  spent 
die  winter  witli  me,  and  returned  long  ago.  I  was  still  by  my- 
self at  Red  River,  when  Wa-irc -tote  came  from  Me-nau-zhe-tau- 
iiauiig,  with  a  message  from  my  father  and  mother-in-law.  They^ 
liud  lost  several  of  their  ehiMren  by  death,  and  feeling  lonely, 
they  sent  for  me  to  come  to  them.  This  message  Wa-gc-totc 
delivered  to  me  in  the  presence  of  the  traders,  and  some  other 
persons :  but  afterwards  he  called  me  out  by  myself,  and  said  to 
me,  "  Do  not  bidieve  that  your  father-in-law  calls  you  to  Mc- 
nau-7,he-tau-naung,  to  be  at  peace,  or  with  any  kiiul  intention. 
When  the  children  were  sick,  they  called  Ais-kaw-ba-wis  to  do 
something  for  them,  and  lie  having  made  a  ehees-suk-kon,  said 
lie  had  called  you  into  his  »'ii(dos(ire,  and  made  you  confess  that 
vou  had  shot  bad  medicine  at  the  children,  though  you  was  at 
tiiat  time  at  Red  River,  He  made  your  tiitlnr-in-law  believt; 
that  you  had  the  |)owe>-  of  life  and  (hath  over  his  children,  ami 
he  continues  to  btliive,  as  do  nnisl  of  the  Indians  of  the  band, 
diat  it  was  your  medicine  which  killed  them.  He  assured,  there- 
fore, that  they  call  you  thither  with  du'  desiiiii  of  killing  you." 
Notwithstanding  this  admonition.  I  started  immediately,  as  1 
knew  if  I  did  not  they  would  be  but  the  move  confirmed  in  their 
unfounded  opinion  ttf  my  culpability. 

I  had  bought  a  shirt  from  sonu'  of  the  Scots  jieople  at  Red 
River,  which  I  put  on  as  I  was  abmit  to  start  on  this  jinirney. 
Probably  it  was  frcmi  this  I  contracted  a  diseas(>  of  the  skin, 
wliieh  became  so  troublesome  and  violent  that  I  was  eompelled 
to  stop  at  the  Be-gwi-o-nns-ko  River.  Here  I  remained  lor  a 
month,  beinii  for  a  hnig  lime  unable  to  mo\e.  AVIieii  I  fust 
stopped  I  set  up  my  lodire  on  tli^'  brink  of  the  river,  and  after  I 
was  unable  to  walk,  I  subsisted  niysi  If  and  family  by  lying  in 
my  canoe  uinl  fishing.  After  being  placed  in  my  canoe,  some- 
times I  lay  there  for  three  or  four  days  without  being  moved, 
covering  myself  with  a  mat  at  niglit.  My  wife  was  not  so  se- 
vere!/ ad'ected,  being,  though  very  sick,  still  able  to  walk. 
When  1  began  to  get  a  little  better,  I  tried  all  sorts  of  raedicine«! 

W 


S^ 


I 


'lii 


\  J 


'Mi 


iawkr's  naurativk. 


I  It 


iPv' 


m 


I  could  procure,  but  none  seemed  to  do  mc  so  much  good  aa  g\in 
powder,  moistened  a  little,  and  rubbed  upon  the  sores,  which 
were  very  large.  This  disorder,  caught  originally  from  tlic 
Scotch  people,  spread  among  the  Indians,  and  killed  numbers  of 
them. 

After  I  had  recovered,  I  went  up  the  Bc-gwi-o-nus-ko,  to  the 
small  lake  of  the  same  nau)e,  v\  here  I  stopped  to  hunt,  and  killed 
plenty  of  meat.  While  1  remained  here,  there  came  one  day  to 
my  lodge,  four  young  men  from  our  village  at  Me-nau-zhe-tau- 
naung.  In  one  of  the  ,  who  was  painted  black,  I  recognized  my 
brother-in-law.  The  three  other  children  being  dead,  grief,  and 
a  feeling  of  loneliness,  intluenced  him  to  leave  his  father,  and 
start  in  searcii  of  some  war  party,  that  he  might  accompany  them 
against  their  enemies,  and  thus  have  an  opportunity  of  sacrilicing, 
lionourably,  a  life  that  had  become  irksome  to  him.  The  three 
young  men  his  companions,  being  imwilling  to  see  him  depart 
alone,  had  voluntarily  accompanied  him.  I  ^r;ive  him  my  horse, 
and  then  went  uj)  to  tiie  Lake  of  the  Woods  to  y  father-in-law, 
where  I  remaincnl  a  few  days.  As  it  was  then  the  time  when  the 
wild  geese,  having  cast  their  cpiills,  arc  unable  to  fly,  wc  caught 
great  numbers  of  them. 

After  four  days,  I  said  to  the  old  people,  "  I  cannot  remain 
here,  while  my  little  brother  has  gone  crying  about,  with  none  to 
protect  him.     I  know  there   is  danger  in  the  path  he  will  walk, 
and  I  ought  to  follow,  to  shi>w  him  where  it  lies.     He  wishes  to 
join  a  war  party,  that  he  may  walk  in  a  dangerous  road  ;  but  there 
is  often  danger  where  we  least  expect  it."     I  knew  that  Wa-n!c- 
gon-a-biew  woidd  fall  upon  this  boy,  and   insult,  or  perhaps  kill 
him,  on   account  of  his   renu»te   relalionshij)  to   the   man  wlm 
wounded  Taw-ga-we-ninne,  at  Mackinac,  or  at  least  with  this  pre- 
tence.    Hha-gwaw-koo-sink,  hearing  my  determination,  and  thi 
reas(ms  I  giive  for  it,  said  he  woidd  iiccompaiiy  me  :  so  we  started 
together,  and  on  our  arrival  at  Red  Kiver,  we  heard  that  Wa-nic- 
gon-a-biew  had   taken  from  the  boy  the  horse  I  gave  him,  and 
had  already  threatened  to  kill  him.     I  went  inuiiediately  to  Wn 
ine-gon-a-biew,  and  a  (]uarrel  would   probably  have  taken  pliire 
at  once,  on  account  of  the  young  man,  had  iu>t  old  Net-no-kwa 
come  between  and  separated  us,  as  we  were  about  to  come  to 
blow-     We  were  all  now  about  to  join  the  (Jrees  and  Assinne- 


amm 


niaB'aiy#y'jU!»Ei: 


TANNER  S    NAURATIVt,, 


'^Ji 


boin?;,  to  go  against  the  Sioux,  and  I  cuutioiicd  inv  \  ouiig  bro- 
lier-in-law  to  he,  on  this  journey,  always  watcliful  of  the  move 
nients  of  Wa-ine-gon-a-bie\v.   We  were  about  forty  men  in  num- 
ber when  we   started   from   Red   River.     As   we  j)assed   along 
tiu'ough  the  Crec  and  Assinneboin  encampments  and  villages  on 
our  route,  our  party  was  augmented  to  the  ntunber  of  two  hun- 
dr(!(i  men,  long  before  we  arrived  at  Turtle  Mountain.  While  we 
were  encamped  near  one  of  the  ('ree  villages,  Wa-gc-tote  and  th« 
principal  chiefs  being  called  away  to  a  feast,  Wa-me-gon-a-biew 
began  to  talk  of  my  brother-in-law;  and  as  I  did  not  like  to  hear 
him,  I  went  out  and  walked  about  at  a  distance  from  the  camjv 
When  1  thought  the  chiefs  had  returned  from  the  feast,  I  re-en 
icred  the  camp;  but  from  the  expression  of  concern  and  interest 
visible  in   the  faces  of  those   about  me,   I   immediately  compre- 
hended that  something  had  happened.     I  went  to  search  for  the 
young  man,  on  whose  account  particularly  I  felt  an    ous  ;  and 
finding  him  safe,  was  returning  to  my  own  place,  when  I  disco- 
vered in  the  hands  of  an  old  man,  who  was  trying  to  replace  them 
in  their  original   shape,  the  splinters  and  fragments  of  my  new 
gun.     I  was  at  no  loss  to  comprehend  the  nature  of  the  accident 
which  liad  deprived  me  of  tlie  use  of  my  gun,  at  a  time  M'hen  it 
was  likely  to  prove  so  important  to  me;  and  in  the  first  moment 
of  irritation,  I  seized  the  barrel,  and  was  walking  towards  Wa- 
me-gon-a-biew,  to  beat  him  with  it,  when  [  met  Wa  {jje-tote,  who 
interfered  to  prevent  nte  from  striking  him;  though  Wa-ge-tote 
himself,  as  well  as  the  other  chiefs,  expressed  the  greatest  dis- 
satisfacti(»n  at  what  he  had  done. 

But  notwithstanding  the  h»ss  of  my  gun,  I  did  not  turn  back. 
Arming  myself  with  my  gun  barrel  in  place  of  war  club  and  spear, 
I  went  on.  In  two  days  from  this  camp,  we  arrived  at  the  head 
of  Turtle  Mountain,  beimr  now  about  four  hiind-ed  men.  Thii^ 
was  the  place  agreed  upon  for  the  assembling  of  all  wh(»  should 
join  in  the  party ;  and  we  had  sujjposed  that  those  we  should 
meet  here,  wouM  be  few  i  >  number  in  oom)>nrison  with  ourselves. 
We  were  theret'ore  somewriat  surprised,  when  we  found  already 
on  the  ground,  one  thousand  Assinneboins,  Crees,  and  Ojibbe- 
ways. 

We  stopped  at  a  little  distance,  and  some  comnumication  took 
place  between  tbft  chiefs,  respecting  the  ceremony  of  salntatiou 


'P 


m 


#p. 


WIV  i 


Tl- 


(t^ 


i  % 


'l(Vi 


J  a\m;k 


NAliKATH  I.. 


<()  1)0  Tisoil.  If  is  rnstoinary  fi)r  v.ar  j)aitit'S,  ono'ogpd  in  llicsumc' 
cause,  ov  friondly  to  oacli  other,  wlicii  tlioy  noct,  to  oxcliauirc 
a  few  shots  by  way  of  a  sham  l)alllp,  in  whidi  they  use  all  th( 
iuin|)iii<i,  the  \v]ioo|)in<r,  and  yclliiii>-  of  a  real  lighl.  15ut  on  this 
occasion  holh  bands  were  so  lar<>e,  undone  so  much  larirer  ihaii 
the  other,  that  the  chiefs  ihoufiht  it  more  pru(U'ut  to  >ise  a  d lifer- 
ent method  of  exchaiiaiiii;-  coMiplimenls  on  meetinjr.  It  was 
agreed,  on  the  pari  of  Match-a-to-uie-wub,*  the  principal  chief, 
that  his  younsr  nien  should  all  remain  in  tlieir  lodges,  and  that 
twenty  warriors  of  our  baiul  slionll  salute  tlieir  encampment,  l)y 
practising  the  manoeuvres  of  allackiug  a  village.  A  large  lodge 
was  set  up  for  them  to  cut  in  pieces  by  their  tiring.  I  was  one 
of  the  twenty  selected  for  this  performance,  having  supplied  my- 
self with  a  gun,  which  I  i)roc\U'ed  from  a  man  who  turned  back. 
It  was  not  without  the  utnu)st  exertion  of  all  my  strength,  that  I 
kej>t  even  pace  with  my  companions,  in  running,  leaping,  loading, 
and  yelling;  and  though  we  rested  four  times,  when  we  arrived 
at  the  chief's  lodge,  and  hail  Idowu  it  to  fragments,  I  was  entirel) 
ex!iauste<l  with  fatigue.  A  man  of  our  own  party,  imprudently, 
and  without  any  authority,  exi)osed  himself  in  the  villaije.  while 
this  salute  was  in  progress;  but  his  clothes  were  blown  ami 
scorched  oft'  his  back,  his  lodge  slioi  down,  and  himself  nnicli 
hurt.  Hut  as  the  exposiwe  had  been  altojiether  voluntary  on  his 
part,  ami  the  notice  taken  of  him  rather  honourable  than  othcr- 
M'ise,  he  had  no  cause  of  comj)laint. 

On  the  lirst  night  after  we  came  together,  three  men  of  the 
Ojibbeways  were  killed  ;  on  the  next,  two  horses  behmging  to 
the  Assinneboins,  and  on  the  third,  three  more.  When  such  num- 
bers of  men  assemble  from  diirereiU  and  r»'niote  parts  of  the  coun- 
try, some  must  be  brought  into  contai't,  between  whom  old 
grudges  and  enmities  exist;  ami  it  is  lutt  sinprising,  that  the  iin- 
.stable  power  and  inftuence  of  the  chiefs,  should  be  insuHicieut  to 
prevent  disturbances  and  bloodshed.  On  this  occasion,  men  were 
'jl  assend)led  from  a  vast  extent  of  country,  of  dissimilar  feedings  and 
dialects,  and  of  the  wIkjIc  fourteen  hundred,  not  one  who  would 
acknowledge  any  authority  superior  to  his  own  will.  It  is  true, 
that  ordinarily  they  yield  a  certain  deference,  and  a  degree  of 

* Malrh-a-to-gf-irub,  (in  tlipCrce,  MaU-clia-to-ke-wub,)intheO)ihheYi»y,  ineons 
ntmly  "  Many  Eagles  sitting." 


y  mr 


.>\. 


TANNER  S    NAKRATIVl. 


•^0,') 


e  all  th( 
t  on  tlii- 
•jTor  iliaii 
;•  a  (lilVer- 
It   \va^ 
l)iil  fliiff, 
,  and  tliiit 
|)in('i\l,  by 
irj>c  Unhv 
I  was  onn 
iplietl  iny- 
ncc'  liack. 
Till,    lluil  I 
g,  loading. 
\vr  arrived 
•us  cntiri'l) 
ipnidently. 
lai;o,  whilf 
blown   11  nil 
iiscir  nniol) 
ilary  on  lli^ 
than  olhcr- 

iiu«n  ol"  thr 
loiijiinir  to 
such  nuni- 
)!'  the  roun- 
whoin   old 
hat  tlu'  nn- 
iitllciont  to 
.  men  wore 
|(('linns  and 
who  would 
It  is  true, 
(Icijree  of 

lUiwaVf  ineons 


obedience  to  the  cliief  each  may  have  umlerliiken  to  follow;  but 
this  obedience,  in  most  instances,  c.ontinnes  no  lonircr  lliaii  the 
will  of  the  chief  corresponds  entirely  with  the  inclination  of  those 
he  leads.  In  this  party,  were  some  who  had  iiecii  a  year  on  their 
iourney  to  reach  this  place.  Two  lumdred  lodges  had  their 
women  with  them. 

Soon  alter  we  joined  the  main  body  at  Turtle  Mountain,  a 
Creo,  of  I'raiiie  Fort,  adopted  uie  into  his  family,  taking  my  ba<r- 
giiire.  and  invitiiiii  me  into  his  lodoe.  He  called  me  constantly 
Ni'-je.*  (my  friend,)  and  treated  me  with  great  kindness.  Many 
other  men  who  were  without  I  »dges,  were  in  like  manner  taken 
inio  the  families  of  those  that  had. 

But  a  I'i'w  days  had  passed,  when  tlie  little  boys  commenced. 
in  the  lirst  instance  a  very  small  iiundier,  by  kicking  at  each 
otiier  in  playfulness  merely  ;  but  it  happent'd  that  on  one  side 
wtre  Assiruieboin  children  only,  and  on  the  other  (^rees  and 
Ojibbeways  ;  by  degrees  larger  and  larger  boys,  and  at  last  men, 
iiiiiied  in  on  either  side,  and  what  had  commenced  in  l>lay,  was 
like  to  terminate  in  a  serious  and  bloody  brawl.  Malch-a-to-ge- 
^\  id>  ran  between  the  combatants,  exerted  his  voice  and  his  hands; 
iifterwards  VVa-ge-tote  and  all  the  other  principal  chiefs,  but  the 
young  men  paid  little  or  no  reirard  to  them.  Th(>  excitement 
which  had  kindled  among  them,  was  maddening  to  raue,  and  llu; 
chiefs  were  running  about  in  the  utmost  distress  and  fear,  when 
;in  old  man,  whose  head  was  white  as  snow,  and  w  ho  was  so  bent 
down  with  age  that  he  walked  on  two  sticks,  and  looking  more 
like  a  dotr  ihan  a  man,  came  out  ;  and  thouiih  his  voice  was  too 
feeble  to  lie  heard  at  any  distance,  he  no  sooner  apjieared,  than 
all  the  Assimnd)oins  desisted  entirely  from  tlieir  violence,  and  t  le 
([uarrel  ended.  Of  those  that  were  wounded  and  injured  in  this 
iifiair,  only  two  died  immediately  ;  but  many  were  so  mm-h  in- 
jured, that  tliey  were  sent  back  to  their  own  country.  Had  not 
the  greater  number  entered  into  the  allray  withoni  their  arms, 
inure  extensive  mischief  would  have  resulted.  Thouirh  I  iiKpiired 
iiiiich,  I  could  neither  learn  the  mime,  or  hear  any  ihintr  satisfac- 
tory of  the  history  of  the  old  man,  by  whose  interference  this 
adiiir  was  brought  so  timelv  to  an  end.  Vague,  ami  proliably 
very  extravagant  reports,  circiilatfd  among  us  respecting  him. 

*  .Vc-je,  luv  fheiul,  uaeU  to  lualue;  and  nin-dong-gioa,  used  by  tnuuJi«  (o  onf> 
(mother 


# 


!  ii 


mms*. 


tiO« 


lAXN'KnS    NABRATIVI 


•1^ 


CHAPTER   XII. 

Siipprstitions  of  the  Indians — violent  and  unjust  prcjudicn — family  misibriuiics- 
reinarkahip  Ifnacily  of  lilt'  in  I  lie  otter,  and  some  otlier  small  animals — disliir 
biinces  between  the  Hudson's  Hay  and  North  West  Fur  Companies. 


,^ 


In  the  evening  after  this  affair,  the  chiefs  walked  throna^h  iIk 
village,  and  addressed  all  the  people.     Theanionnt  of  what  the, 
.said,  was  to  direct,  that  instead  of  remaining  lunger  to  (nuind 
with  and  destroy  each  other,  we  should  all  move  on  the  follow 
ing  morning  towards  the  Sioux  country.     Accordingly,  the  canij) 
was  broken  up,  a})out  half  the  number  returning  towards  honu. 
the  remainder  continuing  on.     It  was   now  late  in  the  full,  ain! 
we  had   travelled  only  two   days  from   Turtle  Mountain,  whin 
there  came  on  a  cold  and  violent  storm  of  rain  and  snow.     Tu. 
horses  perished,  and  many  men  were  near  sharing  the  pame  faU; 
but  most  or  all  or  the  Ojibbeways,  carrying  each  man  on  his  ba(k 
a  puk-kwi  of  birch  bark,  large  enough  to  afford  a  partial  coveriii;: 
for  three  men,  and  all  being  disposed  to  extend  to  the  destitiiii 
all  possilde  assistance  and  relief,  many  of  them  were  sheltered. 

It  was  immediately  after  this  storm  that  some  one  told  iin 
Ba-jris-kim-nunsr  was  cominji  to  see  me  about  the  horse  I  liail 
taken  away  from  him.  "Very  well,"  said  I,  "  I  believe  Ba-ijis. 
kun-nung  has  one  or  two  nu)re  horses,  and  if  he  gives  me  am 
troidde  about  the  one  I  have  taken,  I  will  take  another."  Ai 
noon  he  came,  but  VVa-ge-tole,  Ke-me-wim-iiis-kmig,  and  other 
men  of  my  friends,  had  pre|)ared  themselves  to  resist  any  vio- 
lence he  might  attempt  to  |)ractise  on  me.  He  walked  up  to  iiir 
!is  I  was  roasting  some  meat,  and  stood  a  very  long  time,  I  should 
say  two  hours,  regarding  me  sternly,  without  saying  a  single 
word,  and  then  walked  off. 

Two  days  afterwards,  two  hundred  of  the  Assinneboins  turned 
back.  They  were  reviled  and  insulted  at  parting,  by  those  who 
still  continued  on ;  but  this  seemed  not  in  the  least  to  shake  theiv 


t•,^^ 


am^-rtlf^-y^-  '- 


TANNKR'si    NARllATlVt. 


!A>7 


.letermination.  Desertions,  in  small  bodies,  wvw.  now  very  nu- 
merous, and  the  rem.iinincr  chiefs,  with  the  hope  of  clieckiuir  it, 
appointed  fifty  of  the  best  of  the  young  men  to  art  a^  sentinels 
over  the  others;  but  this  nieusiu'e  was  productive  of  no  benefit. 
When  at  last  we  arrived  within  two  days'  march  of  ihe  viihijirc 
it  was  our  intention  to  attack,  four  hundred  men  were  all  that 
remained,  and  the  next  day  very  few  of  these  were  found  williiiir 
lo  follow  Match-a-to-tre-wub.  He  started  at  the  usual  time,  and 
walked  on  by  himself,  but  when  at  the  distance  of  almut  a  mile, 
he  saw  that  none  followed  him,  he  sat  down  in  the  praiiie. 
From  time  to  time,  one  or  two  men  woiild  start  forward  to  join 
him  ;  but  for  one  who  went  forward,  twenty  or  more  would  com- 
monly start  to  go  back.  With  my  younj^  brother-in-law  I  stood 
at  the  camp  to  see  what  would  be  the  result,  and  when,  at  last, 
I  saw  that  of  the  four  hundred,  only  about  twentywere  willing 
(0  follow  the  chief  farther,  we  determined  to  join  them.  We 
had  proceeded  but  a  little  distance,  when  one  of  the  Assinnc- 
hoins,  who  had  turned  back,  purposely  set  fire  to  the  prairie,  and 
wc  now  all  turned  back  excej)t  the  chief  and  one  or  two  men. 
He  went  on  to  the  Sioux  village,  and  was  lurking  ab(jut  it  for  one 
or  two  days,  when,  finding  himself  discovered,  he  fled  without 
attempting  any  thing.  The  Sioux  juirsued  on  our  trail,  and 
came  in  sight  of  us,  but  ofl'ered  no  molestation,  and,  in  due 
time,  we  all  arrived  at  home  in  safety.  Thus  eudeil  this  war  ex- 
cursion, for  which  such  extensive  pre|)arations  had  been  made, 
and  from  which  so  much  had  been  expected.  On  the  way  home, 
Kc-me-wun-nis-kung  look  away  the  horse  of  the  Assinneboin 
who  had  set  the  prairie  on  fire,  and  beat  him,  he  daring  to  make 
no  resistance. 

When  we  returned  to  Pembinah,  there  was,  as  is  usual  on  a 
return  from  a  war-party,  a  drunken  frolick,  in  which  I  joined, 
though  not  to  very  great  excess.  After  I  had  drank  a  little,  { 
heard  some  one  speak  sneeringly  about  my  gun,  which  Wa-me- 
gon-a-biew  had  broken.  I  had  lent  my  knife  to  some  one  to 
cut  tobacco,  but  there  was  lying  by  the  fire  a  pointed  stick,  on 
•which  meat  had  been  roasted.  Tliis  I  seized,  ran  out,  and  find- 
ing his  horse  standing  by  the  door  of  his  own  lodge,  I  stabbcrl 
liim  with  it,  psing,  at  the  same  time,  in  a  loud  voice,  the  same 


k 


aoH 


I'ANNKU  S    NAKUAini;. 


words  I  had  been  told  lie  had  spoki-n  wlion  lie  broke  iny  jriai. 
The  horse  tell  iininediiilely,  but  did  not  dii-  uiilil  next  nioi  iiing^. 

There  were  six  of  us  to  return  together  to  the  Lake  of  ilic 
Woods,  and  our  principal  man,  She-f{\vavv-koo-sink,  being  ahinn- 
ed,  took  a  little  canoe  and  set  oH'  in  the  night.  I  would  not  start 
then,  nor  even  early  in  the  morning,  h'sl  Wa-me-gnn-a-bi('\v 
should  think  I  was  afraid  ol  him.  I  remained  near  his  loi.^rc 
until  I  had  seen  him  and  i\et-no-kwa,  and  shaken  hands  witli  all 
my  friends,  and  at  al)out  noon  I  was  ready  to  follow  fShe-gwaw- 
koo-sink,  whom  I  found  wailing  for  me  in  the  woods.  Wa-nic- 
gon-a-biew  made  no  complaints  of  my  having  killed  his  horse; 
probably  he  was  perfectly  satisfied  that  I  liad  done  so,  as  an  In- 
dian always  expects  any  outrage  he  commits  shall  be  retaliated, 
according  to  their  customs,  and  a  man  who  omits  to  take  proper 
revenge  is  but  lightly  esteemed  among  them. 

Heavy  snow  and  severe  cold  came  upon  us  at  the  Muskeeg' 
carrying  place  ;  the  trees  cracked  with  tliecold,  but  the  water  in 
the  swamp  was  not  yet  frozen  hard  enough  to  bear ;  our  canoes, 
however,  could  not  be  pushed  through.  The  utmost  exertion  oi' 
our  strength  would  no  lunger  avail  to  move  them.  We  wen; 
hmigry  and  much  fatigued,  and  sat  deliberating  what  was  best 
to  be  done,  when  we  discovered  our  women  coming  from  the 
Lake  of  the  Woods,  and  dragging  their  light  canoes  through 
water,  ice,  and  snow  above  their  knees.  When  they  came  up, 
we  found  they  were  my  wife,  the  wives  of  She-gwaw-koo-sink 
and  Ba-po-wash,  and  my  mother-in-law.  Three  of  our  j)arly. 
whose  women  had  not  come,  had  to  continue  on  to  the  Lake  of 
the  Woods.  Our  wives  laughed  at  us,  telling  us  it  was  mon 
like  old  women,  than  like  warriors  returning  to  their  village,  ti> 
sit  shivering  in  a  canoe  which  coidd  move  neitln-r  way,  thrt»ugh 
fear  of  a  little  water  and  ice.  They  had  brought  us  a  supply  of 
corn,  sturgeon,  and  otlier  food,  and  with  them  we  relume  '  to 
our  last  encampn\ent,  where  we  rested  a  few  days,  then  went 
down  to  Red  River,  with  the  intention  of  spending  the  winter 
there. 

There  was  now  no  snow  on  the  ground  at  Red  River,  though 
the  weather  was  very  cold,  and  the  ground  so  hanl  frozen  thaf 
it  was  nearly  impossible  to  kill  any  game.     1  hunted  day  after 

*  Mus-kceg,  a  marsh  or  KWiun4r 


v.! 


'    ^ 


NVi 


"*^^ 


I'AiVNER  S    NAKKAilVL. 


m> 


iliiy  vviiliout  the  least  success,  and  wc  were  reduced  to  extreme 
lumger,  when  one  day  I  found  a  moose,  and  alter  I  had,  with 
the  ^rreatest  difficulty,  crept  near,  I  was  about  to  shoot  him, 
when  my  host  dog,  which  I  had  confined  at  home,  came  runnino- 
pajit  me,  and  scared  the  moose  away.  I  returned  home,  and 
calling  my  dog  to  me,  outside  the  lodge,  1  told  him  that  it  was  his 
fault  that  there  was  now  no  food  for  my  children.  1  then  killed 
and  gave  him  to  my  family  to  eat. 

Other  families  heside  my  own  being  in  distress  for  the  want  oi 
food,  the  Indians  called  on  me  to  make  a  medicine  hunt.  1  ac- 
loidingly  told  Me-zhi(;k-ko-naum  to  go  for  my  drum,  and  as  pre- 
paratory to  the  commemement  of  my  prayers  and  songs,  I  di- 
rected all  my  family  to  take  such  positions  as  they  could  keep 
ibr  at  least  half  the  night,  as,  after  1  began,  no  one  must  move 
until  I  had  finished.  I  have  always  been  conscious  of  my  entire 
dependence  on  a  superior  and  invisible  Power,  but  I  have  fell 
this  conviction  most  jjowerfully  in  times  of  distress  and  danger. 
]  now  prayed  earnestly,  and  with  the  consciousness  that  I  ad- 
dressed myself  to  a  l?eing  willing  to  hear  and  able  to  assist,  and  I 
called  upon  him  to  see  and  to  pity  the  sufferings  of  my  family. 
The  next  day  I  killed  a  moose,  and  soon  after,  a  heavy  snow 
having  fallen,  we  were  relieved  from  the  apprehension  of  immc 
iliatc  starvation. 

But  though  wc  were  temporarily  relieved,  plenty  did  not  re- 
(urn  to  us.  I  was  about  this  time  hunting  one  day,  and  fell  on 
ilie  track  of  a  l)ear.  My  dogs  f()ll(»weil  for  three  days,  antl  most 
of  the  time  I  kept  nearly  even  })acc  with  them ;  but  at  the  end  of 
tliat  time  they  had  not  overtaken  him.  My  moccasins  and  leg- 
ijings  were  worn  out,  and  I  was  almost  in  a  state  of  starvation. 
I  was  compelled  to  return  home,  having  killed  nothing  but  eight 
plieasants.  Me-zhick-ko-naum,  Ba-po-wash,  and  the  other  In- 
dians, now  left  me  by  myself,  and  I  was  soon  able  to  kill  enough 
to  sup])ly  the  wants  of  my  family.  I  si)ent  the  winter  here,  and 
ill  the  spring  my  friends  rejoined  me,  and  we  returned  together 
io  our  village  at  the  Lake  of  the  Woods. 

At  Me-nau-zhe-tau-naung  great  niisfortime-i  aw  ited  me.  I 
omitted  to  mention  an  event  of  some  importance,  which  hapj>en- 
od  long  before  the  time  I  have  now  arrived  at,  being  a  very  short 
lime  after  the  death  of 'mv  friend  Pe-sluui-ba.     I  was  then  at 


!'■' 


M 


IM 


^ilijL... 


W  •. 


l1 


310 


TANNT.R  S    NARKATIVF. 


r 


■  r; 


i:1i 


;'  'i; 


Dead  River,  at  our  cum  fields,  where  nn  Ojibboway  of  Red  Lake, 
railed  (ii-ah-jte-\v!i-go-mo,  eame  to  my  lodge  in  my  absence,  and 
took  away  one  of  my  sons,  a  boy  six  years  old.     On  my  return, 
my  wife  told  me  wiialliad  iia|)])ened,  and  I  immediately  pursued, 
and  overtaking  (li-ah-ge-wa-go-mc*  at  llie  distance  of  one  day's 
journey,   wiliiout  his  consent  took  one  of  his  horses  to  i)rinp; 
my  son  back.     1  threatened   iiini,  that  if  he  should   make  any 
.similar  attempt  in  future,  he  should  not  escape  unpunished.     Bui 
about  four  months   after,   when  the  snow  was   on  the  ground,  1 
returned  home  from  my  days'  hunt  to  hear  the  same  acco(mt  of 
my  son  being   taken   away  by  Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo.     I   now  felt, 
much  irritated,   and  having  incpiired   from  the  men  in  my  lodge 
what  horse  he  rode,  I  mounted  my  best,  and  pursued  after  him. 
They  had  lately  moved   from  the  place  where  I  found  them  be- 
fore, but  following  on,  I  overtook  them  on  their  journey.     As  I 
was  coming  near   their  party,  I   discovered  Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo 
and  another  man,  called   Na-na-bush,  watching  for  me  in   the 
bushes,  a  little  behind   their  party.     Before  I  came  within  gun- 
shot, I  called  out  to   let  them  know  I  had  discovered  them,  and 
holding  my  gun  in  my  hand,  cocked,  and  in  a  position  for  imme- 
diate use,  I  passed  them,  overtook  the  [)arty,  and  discovering  my 
little  boy,  without  dismounting  I  stooped  down  and  lifted  him 
into  my  lap ;  then  turning  back,  went  to  meet  Gi-ah-ge-wa-go-mo 
and  Na-na-bush.     'JMn^y  had  now  left  the  thicket,  and  were  stand- 
ing in  the  path,  the  former  holding  his  favourite  horse  by  the 
halter.     When  I  rode  up  to  them,  I  left  my  son  on  the  horse, 
with  the  reins  in  his  hand,  got  down,  and   stabbed  Gi-ah-ge-wa- 
go-mo's  horse  twice,  with  a  large  knife  I  had  carried  for  the  pur- 
pose.    He  clubbed  his  gun,  and   was  about  to  strike  me,  but  I 
caught  it  in  descending,  and  wrested  it  out  of  his  hands.     He 
threatened  he  would  shoot  my  horse  whenever  he  could  get  a 
gun.     I  handed  his  own  to  him,  and  told  him  to  shoot  the  horse 
now  ;  but  he  dared  not.     "  It  seems,''  said  I,  "  you  have  forgot- 
ten what  I  told  you  four  months  since,  when  you  took  away  my 
son  before  ;  but  I  have  not  forgotten  it,  as  you  see.     I  am  dis- 
posed to  kill  you  now,  but  as  you  are  so  much  frightened,  I  will 
let  you  Jive,  to  see  if  you  will  steal  away  any  of  my  children 
hereafter."     With  this  I  left  him.     My  friends  could  scarce  be- 
lieve I  had  killed  his  horse,  but  they  did  not  blame  me,  neither 


..«r. 


TANNRR  S    NAKllAllVl  . 


ill 


1(1  Lake, 
nee,  and 
y  return, 
pursued, 
me  day's 
i  to  bring 
nuke  any 
led.     Bui 
crrouiul,  1 
iccount  ol' 
now  fell. 
my  Iodide 
after  liim. 
1  them  be- 
ley.     As  I 
-wa-go-mo 
me  in  tin- 
i^ithin  gun- 
[  them,  and 
1  for  imme- 
overing  my 
lifted  him 
i3-wa-go-mo 
were  stand- 
orse  by  the 
I  the  horKC, 
li-ah-ge-Wii- 
for  the  pur- 
?  me,  but  I 
ands.     He 
;ould  get  a 
it  the  horse 
[lave  forgot- 
ik  away  my 
1  am  dis- 
jeued,  I  will 
ny  chihhcn 
scarce  he- 
me, neithn- 


(lid  Gi-ah-go-wa-go-mo  ;  at  least  I  never  lieiird  that  lie  coniplinn- 
ed  of  it,  and  at  the  linu-  ho  molested  nie  no  more. 

It  was  on  my  return  to  Me-nau-zhe-lan-nanng.  and  w  hen  I  was 
about  clearing  for  myself  a  Held  there,  that  I  foinni  tin-  ill  will  of 
the  Indians,  intluenced,  as  I  liiought,  prinei|)ally  by  the  unl'riend 
ly  otiices  of  Ais-Uaw-ba-wis,  bet'oniinj,'  -o  strong  against  '.iie  that 
I  determined  to  leave  llu-in.  itnt  at  this  lime  an  accident  hap- 
pened to  me,  which  lisabled  nu  for  many  months.  I  had  as- 
cended a  large  tree,  lo  eut  oil' the  limbs,  and  having  trimmed  off 
the  greatest  |)art,  I  went  np  to  nit  the  toj)  oil".  Some  of  the  up- 
per branches  struck  the  lop  of  another  tree,  and  threw  the  trunk, 
which  I  had  cut  oil',  against  my  breast,  by  which  blow  I  was 
thrown  off,  and  fell  from  a  great  height  to  the  ground,  where  I 
lay  for  some  time  insensible,  and  wlu'ii  consciousness  returned  I 
could  not  use  my  voice,  so  that  it  was  some  time  before  I  could 
make  the  Indians  understand  that  I  wished  them  to  bring  me 
water.  I  fainted  three  times  in  attemj)ting  to  reach  the  lodg(\ 
where  I  then  lived. 

Several  of  my  ribs  being  broken,  it  was  long  before  I  recovered 
so  as  to  walk  about  withoui  assistance.  Dr.  M'Laughlin,  a  tra- 
der at  Rainy  Lake,  hearing  of  my  situation,  sent  Mr.  Tace,  with 
instructions  to  take  me  to  his  house,  at  White  Fish  Lake.  For 
a  long  time  I  vomited  blood,  and  felt,  if  moved,  the  sensa- 
tion of  a  hot  liquid  in  the  cavity  of  my  body.  At  Rainy  Lake  I 
experienced  much  attention  aiul  kindness  from  Mr.  Tace,  and 
other  gentlemen  belonging  to  the  North  West  Company.  In 
the  latter  part  of  the  ensuing  winter,  I  was  better,  but  when  the 
warm  weather  of  the  spring  came  on,  I  again  relapsed,  and  be- 
came unable  to  hunt. 

In  ascending  the  long  rapids  of  Rainy  Lake  River,  in  the 
spring,  our  canoes  sunk,  and  I  carried  my  children  ashore  on 
my  back.  Mr.  'Face's  canoe  sunk  also,  but  all  the  men  were 
saved.  A  few  days  after  this,  we  reached  the  trading-house  of 
Dr.  M'Laughlin,  at  Rainy  Lake.  This  gentleman  f-ave  me  a 
room  in  his  house,  where  my  children  took  care  of  me  for  some 
lime.  Every  thing  necessary  was  furnished  me,  and  the  Doctor 
would  have  had  me  remain  with  him  a  year ;  but  I  felt  lonely 
;ind  dissatisfied,  and  determined  on  going  back  to  the  Lake  nf 


,«?' 


i'f, 


\ 
1 1 

J 

t 

if 

.  1 

'ihl 

■. 

i 

.llttVJ' 


^1' 


rAXXF.u  s  XAniiATivi:. 


the  Woods,  where  my  wife  was,  ho])iiiff  that  thelrouhlc  Ais-kaw 
ba-wis  hiul  raused  me,  miglit  now  be  at  an  end. 

My  reeej)ii()n  was  not  swh  as  I  could  have  wislied  ;  butnever- 
iheleris,  I  remained  in  the  vilhige  until  tlie  corn  was  planted ;  then 
wo  went  to  colh^'t  and  dry  the  bhie  berries  which  grow  in  great 
quantises  in  that  country.  Altcrwards  to  the  rice  swamps;  then 
We  ntnrned  to  gather  our  corn.  Thus  we  were  busy  during  all 
the  sunnner. 

Late  in  the  fall  I  became  sick  again,  not  having  yet  recovered 
from  the  hurt  I  had  received  in  falling  from  the  tree;  and  at  abouf, 
the  same  time  some  kind  of  su'kiiess  became  frei|nent  among  the 
lu'iians.  I  \\'as  one  day  lying  in  my  loilge,  unai)le  to  sit  up  or 
walk  about,  and  the  women  were  at  work  in  the  field,  when  my 
mother-in-law  unexpectedly  ranie  in  with  a  hoe  in  her  hands,  and 
began  to  beat  me  on  the  head  wiih  it.  I  was  unable  lo  maki 
much  resistance,  and  as  I  did  not  attempt  il,  I  eiideavctured  to  re- 
concile myself  to  die,  as  I  believed  she' would  certainly  kill  me. 
While  at  work  in  the  field,  she  had  beirun  to  cry  for  her  children  : 
and  probably  thinking  that  the  man  who  liad  catiscd  their  death 
was  1U1W  in  her  power,  she  ran  in  with  the  determination  of  kill- 
ing me  ;  but  for  some  reason  unknown  to  me,  she  desisted  aftei 
she  had  beaten  me  for  sonn^  time,  and  as  [covered  my  head  willi 
my  blanket,  and  \\ilh  my  bands  and  arms  warded  ofl'  the  blow-: 
after  the  hist,  I  was  less  severely  injured,  than  I  had  cause  toa[)- 
prebend.  iSo  entire  was  the  confidence  my  mother-in-law  re- 
posed upon  the  representations  of  .\is-kaw-i)a-wis,  that  she  did 
not  doul)t  but  I  was  in  reality  gnilf'  of  the  ileath  of  her  children: 
and  as  I  well  knew  that  this  was  the  rase,  I  blamed  her  less  fui 
Iter  conduct,  than  I  should  otherwise  have  done.  Hut  notwith- 
standing she  forbore  to  take  my  life,  the  unfriendly  let  lino  on  her 
part,  and  that  of  my  wife,  was  becoming  every  day  more  and 
more  manifest.  This  might  have  been  in  some  measure  owiiij; 
lo  those  misfortunes  which  had  now  impaired  my  health,  anddis- 
iiualilied  me  for  making  so  comfortable  provision  for  ni)  familv 
us  I  formerly  had  done.  Ilut  n.ttwitlistandingall  the  disciMinigiii:; 
and  distressing  circnmstances  attendant  mi  my  present  situation. 
I  gradually  recovered  health  and  strength,  and  late  in  the  fall. 
when  tlie  Indians  were  about  to  move  to  visit  a  trader,  1  wasabh 
'0  nccoiiipanv  ihein. 


• 


i'  r 

\^ 

\      N 

\ 

\ 


TAXNKR  fl    NAKRATIVK. 


vii:{ 


V.is-ka\\ 

ut  ncvev- 
ted;  then 
ill  greal 
ips ;  then 
luring  all 

rccovcrpd 
1(1  at  ahnul 
iiaong  llic 
0  sit  up  or 

whei\  m> 
hands,  and 
If  f.>  niiiU' 
mri'd  to  ro- 
ily kill  mc 
■  !•  children  : 

their  deatli 
lion  ol'  Kill- 
csisled  at'tev 
IV  head  with 


the  blows 
•ause  to  a\)- 
-in-law  re- 

lat  she  dill 

leiuldren: 
HI-  less  tu\ 

It  nt>lwitl\- 
iliniT  on  her 

\,-  nM)re  and 
asiire  owini; 

111),  anddis- 
iiiy  laniily 

iseitunigin^i 

nl  sitnntiini. 
in  llie  liill. 
r.  I  was  a  1)1' 


1  had  a  small  ranoe  of  my  own,  in  which  I  embarked  myself 
■.\\u\  my  children,  but  my  wife  and  my  mothet-in-law  were  in  the 
lartre  canoe,  with  the  provisions,  and  the  baooage.  During  the 
(irst  day  of  our  journey,  I  went  forward,  with  others  of  the  In- 
dians, leaviiiu  the  women  to  come  up  to  the  encamping  place, 
after  we  had  sto|)ped.  [  cut  aiiil  put  up  the  poles  fur  my  lodge, 
but  no  |)ukivwi,  iu>  provisions,  and  no  women  can\e.  Next  day  1 
was  ashamed  to  tell  the  Indians  I  had  nothing  to  eat,  though  my 
children  began  to  cry  of  lumger;  antl  for  the  same  reason,  I 
would  not  encamp  with  diom.  I  iiucw  that  my  wife  had  deserted, 
and  (  had  no  reason  to  suppose  she  would  immediately  rejoin 
me.  I  therefore  kepi  ahead  of  the  Indians,  and  went,  before  I 
-topjied,  beyond  the  place  where  I  knew  they  would  encamp. 
Jlere  I  killed  a  fat  swan,  and  was  able  l(»  give  my  children  some 
food.  The  weather  was  now  becoming  very  c(dd,  ami  1  had 
about  thi'i  time  a  wide  traverse  to  cross.  The  weallu  r  was  some- 
Avhat  rough,  but  as  I  did  not  wish  to  remain  to  he  overtaken  by 
the  Indians,  I  made  my  childnii  lie  down  in  the  canoe,  and  co- 
vered the  whide,  as  well  as  I  couM,  with  a  bullaloe  skin.  The 
wind  blew  more  and  more  violently,  and  the  waves  broke  over 
my  little  canoe.  The  water  froze  upon  the  sides,  and  the  chil- 
dren getting  wet,  sutl'ereil  severely.  I,  also,  was  so  much  over- 
powered by  the  <'(>ld,  that  I  could  not  manage  the  canoe  properly, 
ami  it  struck  and  was  daslied  in  pieces  on  a  rocdiy  >lio.d,  not  far 
from  the  shore  where  I  wished  to  land,  rorfiinately  the  wat(  r 
was  not  dee|)  about  the  rock,  nor  betueen  it  and  the  land,  und 
though  a  (hill  ice  had  formeii,  I  wa-;  able  to  break  it,  and  carrv 
mv  children  on  shore.  Hut  here  we  had  nearly  perished  from 
fold,  as  my  spunk  wood  was  wel,  and  I  had  no  means  of  kindling 
a  tire,  until  I  thought  to  split  open  my  powder  limn,  wlien  i 
found  in  the  middle  (d'  the  mass  of  powder,  a  lililc  which  the 
vvaier  had  not  reiched.  This  en.ihled  me  i  >  kindle  a  fire,  and 
was  the  means  of  savino  all  our  lives.  Next  ii>;y,  Mr.  Siyre,  at 
the  trading  house  near  by,  heard  of  my  situation  ;  or  al  least  the 
Indians  having  come  up,  and  reported  that  I  was  hist,  he  sent  out 
some  men,  who  found  me,  and  assisted  me  to  reach  the  houHC. 
Here  I  look  a  credit  for  my  whole  lamily.  not  knowing  but  my" 
Mile  would  join  me  ut  some  future  lime. 

The  chief  »il"  llmt  country,  from  whom  I  had  previously  ob- 


At- 


•■r 


\>' 


ff'M 


•'-if '        ' 


•^11 


TANNER  S    NAUKATIVE. 


taincd  permission  to  hunt  in  a  little  i)iece  of  ground  whicli  I 
had  selected,  and  a  promise  that  none  of  his  people  should  inter- 
i'ere  with  me  there,  now  endeavoured  to  dissuade  me  from  going 
to  spend  the  winter  by  myself.  I  ought,  he  said,  either  to  remain 
near  the  Indians,  or  t(»  take  some  other  woman  for  a  wife;  as  my 
children  were  young  ami  unable  to  assist  me,  and  my  own  health 
Homewhat  uncertain,  he  thought  it  would  be  very  imprudent  for 
me  to  attempt  wintering  alone.  But  1  would  not  listen  to  his  ad- 
vice. At  present,  I  had  no  inclination,  either  to  remain  with  the 
Indians,  or  to  take  another  wife.  I  therefore  began  to  make  a 
road  immediately  to  my  wintering  ground.  First  I  took  the 
goods  I  had  purchased,  and  carried  them  forward,  then  returned 
and  brought  up  my  children.  My  daughter  Miirtlia  was  then 
three  years  old,  and  the  other  children  were  yet  small.  In  two 
or  three  days  I  readied  my  hunting  groiuul,  but  was  soon  after 
reduced  to  great  distress,  from  which  I  was  relieved  by  a  medi- 
cine hunt. 

I  had  no  pukkwi,  or  mats,  for  a  lodge,  and  therefore  had  (n 
build  one  of  ])oles  and  long  grass.  I  dressed  moose  skins,  madt 
my  own  moccasins  and  leggins,  antl  those  for  my  children  ;  cut 
wood  and  cooked  for  myself  and  my  fanuly,  made  my  .snow  shoes. 
&c.  &.C,  All  the  attention  and  labour  I  had  to  bestow  about 
home,  sometimes  ke|)t  me  from  hunting,  and  I  was  occasionallv 
distressed  for  want  of  provisions.  I  busied  myself  ai)out  my 
lodtre  in  the  lught  time.  When  it  was  suiliciently  light,  I  would 
bring  wood,  aiul  attend  to  other  things  without;  at  other  limes  1 
was  repairing  my  snow  shoes,  or  my  own  or  my  children's 
clothes.  For  nearly  all  the  winter,  I  sh'|)t  but  a  very  small  pari 
of  each  ni'^lit. 

I  was  still  living  in  this  way  in  the  sprinjr,  when  a  young  man 
called  Se-bis-kuk-gu-un-na.  (lough  legs,)  a  son  of  Wau-zhe-gaw- 
maish-koon,  who  was  iu)w  dead,  came  to  nn-.  Me  was  in  a 
starving  condition,  as  were  his  friends,  who  were  eu«'an)ped  at  no 
jrreat  distance  from  me.  My  dogs  were  mow  so  well  trained,  Ihni 
thpy  could  draw  half  a  moose.  I  put  on  a  full  load  of  meat,  and 
told  him  to  go  with  ihe  letim,  meet  his  people,  and  l»ring  them  to 
Jive  with  me.  In  three  days  they  arrived;  but  thouuh  their  hun- 
i^er  had  been  relieved  by  the  .supply  1  sent  ihem,  iheir  appearance 


»  ' 


t||: 


mm 


'Inch  1 
I  inter- 
im goinu 
remain 
. ;  as  my 
a  heallh 
idont  fov 

0  Ills  ad- 
wilh  the 

1  make  a 
took  the 

rclurnoil 
was  tluMi 
.     l\i  two 
soon  after 
)y  a  nu'tli- 

,re  had  to 

kins,  mad< 

iMrcn  ;  en' 

;no\v  shoes. 

stow  ai)OVit 
(•jisionally 
about  nn 
it,  I  \vo<dd 
vr  limes  I 
tdiililren's 
small  part 

young  ma\i 
lu-zhe-gaw- 
If  was  in  a 
|tinp«'tl  i^t  "'^ 
|raii\e<l,  that 
LC  meat,  and 
ling  them  to 
li  their  hvm- 
aj)|)earaiu"e 


rANKER  S    VARRATIVV;. 


"-J15 


wa9  extremely  miserable,  and  it  is  probable  they  must  have  pe- 
rished if  they  had  not  found  me. 

As  the  spring  was  approaching,  we  returned  to  the  Lake  of  the 
Woods.  Ice  was  still  in  the  lake  when  we  arrived  on  the  shore 
of  it ;  and  as  I,  with  my  companions,  was  standing  on  the  shore, 
I  saw  an  otter  coming  on  the  ice  at  a  distance.  I  had  often  heard 
the  Indians  say  that  the  slron<;est  man,  without  arms  of  some 
kind,  cannot  kill  an  otter.  Pe-shau-ba,  and  oiIut  strong  men 
and  good  hunters,  had  told  me  this,  but  I  still  doulited  it.  I  now, 
therefore,  proposed  to  test  the  truth  of  this  common  opinion.  I 
caught  the  otter,  and  for  the  space  of  an  hour  or  more,  exerted 
myself,  to  the  extent  of  my  power,  to  kill  him.  I  beat  him,  and 
kicked  him,  and  jumped  upon  him,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  I  tried 
to  strangle  him  with  my  hands;  but  after  lying  still  for  a  time, 
he  would  shorten  his  n»!ck,  and  draw  his  head  down  between  my 
hands,  so  that  the  breath  would  pass  through,  and  I  was  at  last 
compelled  to  acknowledge,  that  I  was  not  able  to  kill  him  with- 
out arms.  There  arc  other  small,  and  apparently  not  very  strong 
animals,  which  an  unarmed  man  «'annot  kill.  Once  while  on  a 
war  parly,  in  a  sort  of  bravado,  I  had  tried  to  kill  a  pole  cat  with 
my  naked  hands,  but  I  had  nearly  lost  iny  eyes  by  the  means. 
The  li(juid  which  he  threw  upon  my  face,  caused  a  j)ainful  inflam- 
mation, ami  the  .skin  came  off.  The  white  crane,  also,  is  danger- 
ous, if  approached  too  near ;  they  can,  and  sometimes  do,  inflict 
mortal  wounds  with  their  sharp  beaks. 

After  I  had  killed  this  otter,  I  went  in  pursuit  of  a  bear.  I  had 
now  three  dogs,  one  of  which  was  not  yet  fully  grown.  This 
(log,  which  was  of  a  valuable  breed,  and  had  been  given  me  by 
Mr.  Tace,  escaped  from  his  haller  at  lunne,  and  came  after  me. 
When  he  came  up,  he  passed  me  and  the  other  dnirs,  and  imme- 
diately assailed  the  bear's  head  ;  but  the  enraged  aninnil  ahm)st 
instantly  killed  him,  caught  him  up  in  his  mouth,  and  carried  him 
more  than  a  mile,  until  he  himself  was  oviTcom'^  and  killed. 

It  is  usually  vcrylate  in  the  pring.  before  th<'  ice  is  goiu'  from 
the  Lake  of  the  VVoIral.  When  I  arrived  at  our  village  with  the 
son  of  Wau-zhe-gaw-inaish-koon,  the  Indians  who  were  there 
had  been  for  a  long  time  sulfering  from  hunger ;  but  I  had  my 
i'an(»e  loaded  with  provisi(»ns,  which  I  innnedialely  distril)nteil 
Inr  their  relief.     On  the  day  after  my  arrivBl,  came  my  wife  and 


%" 


i 


ft. 


VII 


If 


liV'4 


I 


•  m 


It 


:iHi 


tanner's  NARKATIVL. 


]»er  mother.  She  laughed  when  she  saw  me,  and  came  to  live 
with  mc,  as  heretofore.  She-gwaw-koo-sink  and  Ais-kaw-ba-wis 
Averc  both  there,  and  both  nnlriendly  to  me,  but  I  made  it  niy 
business  to  seem  wholly  ignorant  of  the  many  attempts  ihev 
made  to  injure  me.  About  planting-  time,  tjie  traders  of  ilu 
North  West  Company  sent  messengers  and  presents  to  all  thr 
Indians,  to  call  them  to  join  in  an  attack  on  the  Hudson's  IJay 
establishment  at  Red  River,  F()r  my  own  part,  I  tlioujrht  llusc 
({uarrely  between  relalives  unnatural,  and  I  wished  to  take  no 
share  in  them,  though  I  had  long  traded  with  the  people  of  the 
North  West  Company,  and  considered  myself  as  in  some  measun 
belonging  to  thein.  Many  of  the  Indians  obeyed  the  call,  and 
many  cruelties  and  nninlers  were  connnitted.  On  the  part  of 
the  North  West  were  many  half-l)reeds.  among  whom,  one  called 
Grant,  distingui'^hed  himself  as  a  leader,  Home  of  tlie  Iluilson's 
Bay  people  were  killed  in  open  fight,  others  were  murdered  after 
being  taken  prisoners. 

A  iMr,  M'Donaid,  or  M'Dolland,*  wlio  was  called  a  governor 
for  tlie  Hudson's  Hay,  was  waylaid,  and  fell  into  the  hands  of  a 
Mr.  Herschel,  or  Harshield,  a  clerk  of  the  North  West.  This  man 
sent  him  in  a  canoe  with  some  Frenchmen  and  a  half-breed,  willi 
directions  to  kill  him  and  tlirow  him  into  the  water.  When  the\ 
luul  gone  sonu'  distance,  the  hall-breed,  whose  name  was  Maveeii 
wished  to  have  kilUd  hini,  but  the  Frenchmen  would  notconseni, 
Tiiev  Icl't  hiin  on  a  ssnall  roeky  island,  from  which  he  had  nu 
jneans  of  escape,  ami  where  they  thought  he  must  perish;  but 
be  was  discovered  and  laken  up  by  sonu^  Miiskegoe  Indians,  wlm 
^et  him  at  lilf^'rty.  Mr.  Harshield  beat  and  abused  the  Frencli- 
men  for  having  neglecletl  to  kill  the  governor  when  Jie  was  in 
their  power,  and  despatched  (tther  men  in  pursuit  of  him.  Wlun 
again  taken,  he  entrusted  him  to  tlu^  half-breed  Maveen,  and  oik 

*  Sonic  ol'tiu' I'ilcumcitiiiirc.sot'lluH  niurtltr,  sci'iii  li»  identity  it  witli  that  of  K(  ■ 
veiiv,  li>r  wliifii  (harli's  Dc  Kiiiilianl  and  Anliilmlil  Mi."ll:iii  wcro  Iriiil  at  Uiic 
I'l'c,  ill  IHIH,  and  till'  loinu'r  i-oiKl(Miiiiod  to  ilralli.  Ue  Reinharil,  Maim illc,  mid 
Jow,  (ir  Joseph,  all  Indian,  ollierwise  (ailed  thnSon  of  the  While  I'arlridjfo,  Heoni 
tohave  U'Pii  the  iiiiiiiediute  lu'tors  in  this  a'liiir.  It  is  not  Hiirprising  that  'rainier 
who  was  then,  as  tar  as  opiHirlunilieK  tor  parlieular  intiirnmlion  on  llim  Kulijcii 
were  eoncerned,  (in  a  |inr  with  the  wildest  liuliun,  Hlioiild  have  iniHiakcii  forei|;ii 
names,  as*  wfll  as  the  eoiiipiirntiv(!  rank  mid  iinporlaiict!  of  (lirt'iiriiers  in  tli' 
I'liiinlrv. 


i 


i 


<\^ 


v\ 


.  ^ 


lANN'BU  S    NARRATlVt:^ 


^17 


e  to  live 
w-ba-wis 
lie  it  nu 
ipts  ihcy 

to  all  thf 
soil's   Bay 
ijrht  these 
D  take  no 
iplu  of  the 
le  jueasuvi 
e  call,  and 
he  [)art  ol' 
,  one  called 
e  Hudson's 
rderoil  after 

a  governor 
'  liands  of  ti 
i.    This  mail 
r-bi-ced,  Willi 
When  lhe\ 
was  Maveeu, 
not  conseni. 
1  he  had  no 
perish;  bill 
udians,  who 
the  Fvenrli- 
I)  he  was  ill 
him.     When 
(-011,  and  oiu' 

Iro  tried  sit  Uiic 

ll.  Miiinvillc,  aii.l 

Iraririili:'',  *'>'<'i'> 

(ngtiiat  'rniiniT 

on  tliw  Hulijfii- 

Lshikcn  fi)rri(!ii 

Lieiuuers  in  !'»' 


Avhite  man,  who  had  been  a  soldier,  but  whoso  well  known  cru- 
elty of  disposition  made  him  fit  to  be  chosen  for  such  business. 
These  two  murdered  him,  in  a  manner  too  cruel  and  shameful  to 
be  particularly  narrated,  and  then  returned  with  the  account  of 
what  they  had  done  to  Mr.  Harshield. 

After  the  settlement  at  Red  River  was  reduced  to  ashes,  and 
ihe  Hudson's  Bay  people  driven  out  of  the  country,  the  Indians 
and  half-breeds  in  the  employ  of  the  North  West,  stationed  thcin- 
rielves  at  a  place  called  Sah-gi-uk,  at  the  outlet  of  Lake  Winni- 
peg, to  watch  for,  and  destroy,  any  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  people 
Ai'Iio  should  attempt  to  enter  the  country  in  that  direction.  Ba- 
pi)-wash,  my  brother-in-law,  was  at  length  tired  of  starving  there, 
and  started  by  himself  to  come  to  our  village,  where  I  remained, 
lel'using  to  take  part  with  either  side.  On  his  way  up,  he  met  a 
Mr.  M'Dolland,  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  who,  with  Mr. 
Bruce  for  his  interpreter,  was  going  into  the  country.  This  gen- 
tleman wad  slow  to  listen  to  the  advice  of  Mr.  Bruce,  who  being 
better  acquainted  with  the  state  of  affairs  in  the  country,  had 
many  fears  on  his  account.  On  meeting  Ba-po-wash,  whom  he 
tt'ell  knew,  Mr.  Bruce,  by  pretending  to  be  still  in  the  interest  of 
the  North  West,  was  able  to  gain  full  intelligence  of  all  that  had 
passed.  Being  convinced  of  the  truth  of  this  information,  Mr. 
M'Dolland  was  persuaded  to  turn  back,  and  probably  saved  hi,s 
life  by  so  doing. 

He  came  to  me  at  Me-nau-zhe-tau-naung,  and  I  confirming  the 
4atement  of  Ba-po-Avash ;  he;  hastened  back  to  the  Saut  De  St. 
Marie,  where  he  met  liord  Selkirk,  then  coining  into  the  country 
to  settle  the  affairs  of  the  two  rival  companies. 

For  my  own  part,  I  spent  the  sunimer  in  the  usual  quiet  inan- 
wr,  being  occupied  with  huntinij,  and  the  employments  about 
our  cornllelds;  in  gathering  wild  rice,  and  fishing.  Wlien  we 
upre  returning  trom  the  rice  swamps,  I  stopp.ed  on  one  of  the 
-mall  islands  in  the  route  towards  Rainy  Lake,  to  hunt  a  bear 
with  whose  haunt  1  had  loiio  been  aciiuainted.  Late  at  night, 
after  I  had  killed  my  bear,  and  as  1  was  lying  cpiietly  in  my 
lodge,  I  was  sur|>rise(l  to  hear  at  the  door,  a  voice,  which  I  knew* 
immediately  to  be  that  of  the  Mr.  Harshield  I  have  already  men- 
iioned.  [  soon  learned  that  he  was  on  the  look  out  (ur  some  one 
.'u;  had  not  found.     Having  discovered  my  light  at »  distnuce,  hf- 

2f^ 


ti  1 


■  -i,  "III' 


lis  t 


318 


TANNKR's    NARflATlVE. 


lir  ,M 


I 


•■«. 


Willi'*'  ^ 

wm 


it',-. 


MM- 


had  supposed  it  to  be  that  in  the  camp  of  Lord  Selkirk,  and  had 
crept  up  with  the  stealth  of  an  Indian  warrior,  or  he  could  not 
have  approached  my  lodge  without  my  beincr  aware  of  it.  He 
did  not  immediately  mention  his  intention  of  killing  Selkirk ;  bu). 
I  knew  him  and  his  companions,  and  was  not  at  a  loss  to  compre- 
hend his  purpose.  Nor  was  I  ignorant  of  the  design  with  which 
he,  with  mu(;h  art,  endeavoured  to  get  me  to  accompany  him  to 
Rainy  Lake.  But  when  he  found  that  insinuations  and  dubious 
hints  wotdd  not  eflect  what  lie  had  in  view,  he  openly  avowed 
that  it  was  his  intention  to  kill  Lord  Selkirk,  whenever  he  should 
meet  him,  and  he  then  called  uj)  liis  two  cunoes,  and  showed 
them  to  me,  each  with  ten  strong  and  resolute  men,  well  armed. 
He  tried  many  methods  to  induce  me  to  join  him,  but  I  would 
not. 

After  leaving  me,  he  went  on  to  Rainy  Lake,  to  the  tradinp 
house  of  Mr.  Tace ;  but  that  gentlenian  being  less  inclined  to  vi- 
olent measures,  advised  him  to  return  immediately  to  his  own 
country.  What  argvmients  Mr.  Tace  made  use  of  I  know  not. 
but  after  two  days  Mr.  Har.shield  returned  towards  Red  River. 
leaving  concealed  in  the  woods  near  the  trading  house,  the  soldier 
who  had  taken  part  with  Maveen,  in  the  murder  of  the  governor 
the  year  before.  It  was  not  certainly  known  among  us  whai 
this  man's  instructions  were,  but  it  ajjpeared  he  did  not  like  hi^ 
solitary  residence  in  tlic  woods,  for  after  four  days  he  returned  to 
the  fort. 

In  the  mean  lime.  Lord  Selkirk  had  taken  Fort  William. 
which  was  then  held  by  Mr.  M'Gillivray,  for  the  North  West. 
From  Fort  William,  he  sent  on  an  ofHcer,  with  some  troops,  u< 
take  possession  of  Mr.  Tace's  trading  house,  in  which  the  soldier 
who  had  killed  governor  M'Dolland  was  found.  He  was  senl. 
Avith  others  who  had  attempted  to  rise  after  they  had  surrendered 
at  Fort  William,  to  Montreal,  and  I  have  heard  that  he  was  luiiij;. 

About  this  time,  I  made  uj)  my  mind  to  leave  the  Indian  coun- 
try, and  return  to  the  States.  1  had  many  difliculties  to  encoim- 
ter,  originating  in  the  ill  will  which  had  been  raised  against  iiiu 
among  the  Indians,  particularly  in  the  family  of  my  father-in-law, 
by  Ais-kiiw-ba-wis.  Mr.  Bruce,  with  whom  I  now  met,  gave  me 
much  information  and  advice  ;  he  had  travelled  more,  and  seen 
iTjore  of  white  men  than  1  had.  and  his  sfatemonta  encowatred 


A 


"■WJ-J-J 


and  had 
ould  not, 
it.     Ho 
kirk ;  bui 
)  comprc- 
ith  wliich 
ny  him  to 
id  dubious 
ly  avowed 
•  he  shoukl 
nd  showed 
p'ell  armed. 
)ut  1  wouW 

the  tvadinfi 
dined  to  vi- 
r  to  his  own 
1  know  not. 
i  Red  llivcr. 
c,  the  soldicv 
the  governor 
long  us  what 
Li  not  like  hi^ 
relumed  to 

"ort  Williaiu. 
North  West. 
ine  troops,  tc 
•h  tlic  soldiiM 
He  was  sent' 
d  surrendered 
he  was  huiiv;. 
Indian  eouu- 
IPS  to  encouu- 
xl  against  luc 
lalher-in-law, 
met,  gave  uu 
lore,  and  seen 
Its  encouraued 


iANNERS    NAUKATlVi;. 


•^in 


me.  Tlie  war  of  1812  was  now  over,  and  there  was,  I  thought, 
no  insiirmountabh!  obstacle  in  the  way  of  my  return  to  my  own 
coimtry. 

f  had  a  fine  crop  of  corn,  and  plenty  of  wild   rice;  and  as  I 
wished  to  move  to  Rainy  Lake,  where  1  could  spend  the  winter, 
Mr.  Bruce,  who  was  going  the  same  way,  agreed  to  take  twent) 
Hacks  of  my  corn,   and   at   length  I    followed   with  my  family. 
Wiicn  I  arrived  near  the  trading-house  at  Rainy  Lake,  and  where 
I  expected  to  have  found  Mr.  Tace,  being  as  yet  ignorant  of  the 
changes  that  had  taken  place,  I  foimd  the  captain  I  have  before 
nientioned.     He  treated  me  with  much  attention,  and  would  have 
given   me  some   goods ;  but   all  those  left  in  the  house  by  the 
North  West,  had  already  been  disposed  of  to  the  Iiulians.     After 
several  days'  conversation  with  me,  he  succeeded  in  convincing 
nic  that  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company  was  that  which,  in  the  pre- 
sent quarrel,  had  the  right  on  its  side,  or  rather,  was  that  which 
was  acting  Avitli  the  sanction  of  the  British  government ;  and  bj 
])romising  to  aid  mc  in  my  return  to  tlie  states,  by  liberal  pre- 
sents, good  treatment,  and  fair  promises,  he  induced  me  to  con- 
sent to  guide  him  and  his  party  to  the  North  West  Company's 
house,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Assinneboiii.     The  winter  was  now 
coming  on,  and  had  already  commenced,   but  Cupt.  Tussenon, 
lor  that  was  his  name,  as  nearly  as  I  can  recollect,  said  his  party 
could  not  live  at  Rainy  Lake,  and  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  gu 
mmediately  on  to  Red  River. 

I  started  with  twenty  men  in  advance,  and  went  to  Be-gwi-o 
iius-ko  Sah-gie-gun,  (»r  Rush  Lake,  whence  the  horses  were  sent 
back,  an<l  the  captain,  with  the  remaining  fifty  men,  came  up. 
\t  Rush  Lake  we  had  snow  shoes  made,  and  engaged  Shr- 
i^waw-koo-sink,  Me-zhuk-ko-nong,  and  other  Indians,  t«>  ac- 
company us,  as  hunters,  and  as  we  had  great  (juantities  of  wild 
rice,  we  were  pretty  well  supplied  with  food.  We  had,  howe- 
ver, a  long  distance  to  travel  over  the  prairie,  and  the  sin)W  was 
deep.  When  we  were  out  of  meat,  there  was  occasionally  some- 
thing of  a  mutinous  disposition  mu:.  lest  among  the  soldiers,  but 
little  serious  difficulty  occurred.  Ii>  forty  days  after  we  left 
Rainy  Lake,  we  arrived  at  Red  River,  and  took  the  fort  at  the 
iijouth  of  the  Pembinah,  without  any  diillculty,  there  beinjf  fev 


'  i 

.'tl 

v'.l 


\Jv^.,. 


•^20 


1  AXN'KR  sJ    NARKAin  K. 


W%^ 


or  no  persons  there,  except  sijuaws  and  chililren,  and  a  few  old 
French. ..eit. 

From  rembinah,  where  I  loll  my  children,  we  went,  in  four 
days,  to  the  Assinneboin,  ten  miles  above  tlie  mouth,  having 
crossed  Red  River  a  short  time  before.  Here  Be-gwais,  a  prin- 
cipal man  of  the  Ojibljeways,  met  us,  with  twelve  youn|ir  men. 
Our  captain  ami  governor,  who  was  with  us,  though  they  un- 
derstood there  were  no  more  than  tweh'e  men  in  the  INorth 
West  Company's  fort,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Assinneboin,  seenietl 
at  a  loss  to  know  in  what  manner  to  attempt  its  reduction. 

They  counselled  with  Be-gwais,  and  he  advised  them  to 
march  immediately  up  to  thi'  ft)rt.  uud  show  their  force  before  it, 
which  he  thought  vvould  lie  sutKcient  to  insure  immediate  siu'- 
render.  When  ("apt.  Tussenon  had  engaged  me  at  Rainy  Lake, 
I  had  told  him  I  could  make  a  road  from  that  place  to  the  door 
of  Mr.  /•arshield's  bed  rooai,  and  considering  myself  able  to  dii 
.so,  I  was  dissatistied  that  they  took  no  notice  of  me  in  these 
consultations ;  and  at  night,  we  at  that  time  having  approachoil 
very  near,  I  communicated  my  dissatisfaction  to  Loueson  No\\- 
lan,  an  interpreter,  who  was  well  ac(|uainted  with  the  countr). 
and  who  had  a  half  brother  in  the  fort,  a  clerk  for  Mr.  Harshickl. 
We  talked  together,  as  we  left  the  place  where  they  had  been 
counselling,  and  after  we  had  lain  down  by  our  own  fire,  and 
Nowlan  agreed  with  me  that  it  woidd  be  in  the  power  of  us  two 
to  go  forward,  and  surj)rise,  and  take  the  fort,  and  we  determin- 
ed to  attempt  it ;  but  we  comnuinicated  our  intention  to  sonit 
soldiers,  who  followed  us.  There  were  no  hills,  bushes,  or 
other  objects,  to  cover  our  approach  ;  but  the  night  was  dark, 
and  so  extremely  cold,  that  we  did  not  suppose  the  people  within 
could  be  very  vigilant.  We  made  a  ladder  in  the  way  the  In- 
dians make  them,  by  cutting  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  with  the  liinb 
trimmed  long  enough  to  serve  to  step  on,  and  placing  it  agaiiisi 
the  wall,  we  went  over  and  got  down  on  the  inside,  on  the  top  ol 
the  blacksmith's  shop,  whence  we  descended  silently,  one  after 
another,  to  the  ground.  When  a  suflicient  number  of  the  mcu 
had  got  in,  we  went  to  find  the  people,  first  cautiously  placing 
two  or  three  armed  men  at  the  doors  of  the  occupied  rooms,  to 
prevent  them  from  getting  together,  or  concerting  any  meHn< 
of  resistance. 


'  Li 


r.' 


m*''.i 


tannkr's  xarrativl. 


'».) 


21 


We  (lid  not  discover  the  bed  room  of  Harshicld  until  day  lighf . 
When  he  loiind  we  were  in  the  fort,  he  came  out,  stronf>ly  arm- 
ed, and  attempted  to  make  resistance,  l)Ut  we  easily  overpower- 
ed him.  He  was  at  first  bound,  and  as  he  was  loud  and  abusive, 
the  governor,  who,  with  the  rt  plain,  had  now  arrived,  dirt  ' 
us  to  throw  hin.  out  intu  the  snow  ;  but  the  weather  bein<f  too 
cold  for  him  to  remain  there  without  much  dan^^or  of  being  fro- 
zen, they  allowed  him  to  ctime  in,  and  lie  was  j)laced  by  the  fire. 
When  he  recoguised  me  among  his  captors,  he  knew  at  once 
that  i  must  have  guided  the  party,  and  he  reproached  me  loudly 
with  my  ingratitude,  as  he  pretended  formerly  to  have  done  mc 
many  favours.  I  told  him,  in  reply,  of  the  murders  he  had  com- 
milted  on  his  own  friends,  aud  the  people  of  his  own  colour,  and 
that  it  was  on  account  of  them,  and  his  numerous  crimes,  that  I 
had  joined  against  him.  "  When  you  came  to  my  lodte  last 
fall,  and  I  treated  you  with  kindness,  it  was  because  I  did  not 
then  see  thai  your  hands  were  red  with  the  blood  of  your  own 
relatives.  I  did  not  see  the  ashes  «d' the  houses  of  your  brothers, 
which  you  had  caused  to  be  burned  down  at  Red  River."  But 
he  continued  to  curse  and  abuse  not  only  me,  but  the  soldiers, 
and  every  one  that  came  near  him. 

Only  three  persons  were  kept  in  confinement,  of  those  that 
liad  been  captured  in  this  trading-house.  These  were  Mr.  Har- 
shield,  the  half  breed  boy,  Maveen,  who  had  been  concerned  in 
the  murder  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  governor  above;  mentioned,  iind 
one  clerk.  The  rest  were  suflered  to  go  at  large.  Joseph  Ca- 
dotte,  the  half  brother  of  Nowlan,  made  a  very  humble  and  sub- 
missive apology  for  his  conduct,  and  promised,  if  they  would 
release  him,  he  would  go  to  his  hmitiiig,  and  be  henceforth  no 
more  concerned  with  traders.  He  was  accordingly  liberated, 
but  instead  of  doiuo  as  be  had  promised,  he  went  immediately  to 
Mouse  River  Iradiug-house,  and  having  collected  forty  or  fifty 
half  breeds,  he  returned  to  retake  the  place;  l)Ut  they  approach 
ed  no  nearer  than  about  a  mile  distant,  where  they  remained  foi 
some  time  in  camp. 

After  twenty  days,  I  returned  to  Pembinah  to  my  family,  and 
then  went,  with  Wa-ge-tote,  to  hunt  buHiiloe  in  the  prairie.  I 
now  heard  that  many  of  the  iialf  breod  people  in  the  country- 
were  enrau,ed  against  me,  for  the  part  I  had  taken  against  the 


1    M 


\  t 


.'i[ 


fmm 


I.  .i- 


^>i 


t 


'ir^Z 


lANNKU  S    NARUAllVi;. 


North  West  Company,  anil  iVoin  some  of  the  principal  men  I 
heard  that  they  inteniUid  to  take  «ny  lii'e.  I  sent  ihcni  back  for 
answer,  tiiat  they  must  fall  on  me  as  I  had  done  on  the  peoph 
of  the  North  West,  when  I  was  sleeping,  or  they  would  not  hi- 
able  to  injure  me.  They  came  near,  and  were  several  times 
lurkinjT  about,  with  intention  to  kill  me,  b^  t  they  were  never 
able  to  ell'ect  their  object.  I  spent  what  remained  of  the  win- 
ter among  the  Imlians,  and  in  the  spring  returned  to  tlie  A»- 
sinneboin.  Lord  Selkirk  arrived  from  Fort  William  in  the 
spring,  and  a  few  days  afterwards  Mr.  Cumberland,  and  anollier 
clerk,  belonging  to  the  North  West,  came  up  in  a  canoe.  As  they 
did  not  stop  at  the  fort,  Lord  ^Selkirk  sent  a  canoe  after  them, 
and  they  were  brougiit  back  and  placed  in  coniinement. 

The  people  of  ihc  Mouse  River  trading-house,  belonging  In 
the  North  West  Company,  came  down  about  this  time ;  but  be- 
ing afraid  to  pa^^s  by  the  fort,  they  stopped  and  encamped  at  jm 
great  distance  above.  The  Indians  from  distant  parts  of  tht 
country,  not  having  heard  of  the  disturbances  and  changes  thiii 
had  taken  place,  now  began  to  assemble ;  but  they  manifested 
great  astonishment  when  they  found  tliat  heir  old  ti..ders  wcrr 
no  longer  in  possessior,  of  the  fort. 

A  letter  was  this  spring,  or  in  the  earlj  part  of  summer,  re- 
ceived from  Judge  ('odnian,  offering  two  hundred  dollars  reward 
for  the  apprehension  and  rlelivery  of  three  half  breeds,  who  had 
been  very  active  in  the  preceding  disturbances,  namely,  Grant. 
the  principal  leader  of  the  l^df  breeds  for  the  North  West,  Jo- 
seph Cadotte,  and  one  cpUe.!  Assinneboin.  These  were  nil 
taken  by  a  l)arty  from  our  fi  i  ,  aided  by  the  interpreter,  Nowlaii. 
but  they  were  released  upon  their  promise  to  appear  again  when 
Judge  Codman  should  arrive.  This  party  had  sc  rce  return- 
ed home,  when  Assinneboin  came  and  surrendered  himsell'. 
at  the  same  time  giving  information  that  Grant  and  Cadotte  had 
fled  the  moment  Nowlanand  his  parly  turned  their  backs.  Thev 
went  to  the  country  of  the  Assinnebnins,  from  whence  they  did 
not  return  initil  thev  were  sent  f  )r,  md  brought  to  attend  tlic 
court;  but  tlie  man  who  had  given  himself  up  was  pardoned. 

Lord  Selkirk  had,  for  a  long  time,  expected  the  arrival  of  the 
judge  appointed  to  try  those  accused  of  capital  crimes,  and  to  ad- 
just the  dispute  between  the  two  rival  companies :  and  becoming 


♦II 


Iht.        ,  "v 


f.    : 


lANNKR  S    NAllRA'llVL. 


'i£i 


\«ry  impatient,  he  despatched  a  messenger  to  Sah-gi-iil  vritli 
provisions  and  other  presents,  who  was  instructed  to  pro<^t  d  «u 
until  he  shouW  meet  the  judge.  At  one  of  the  North  West  Com- 
pany's houses,  beyond  Sah-gi-uk,  tliis  man  was  taken  prisoner, 
and  severely  beaten  by  the  company's  agent,  Mr.  Black  ;  but 
about  this  time  the  judge  arrived,  and  Mr.  Black,  with  a  Mr. 
M'Cloud,  fled,  and  secreted  themselves  among  the  Indians,  si) 
that  when  Judge  Codman  sent  lor  them  from  Red  River,  they 
were  not  to  be  found. 

Th«  trial  continued  a  long  time,  and  many  prisoners  were, 
from  day  to  day,  released  ;  but  Mr.  Harshield,  and  the  half  breed 
Maveen,  were  loaded  with  irons,  and  put  in  more  rigorous  con- 
finement. The  judge  had  his  ramp  in  the  middle,  between  our 
fort  and  the  camp  of  the  Norl.i  West  Company's  people,  proba- 
bly that  he  might  not  seem  partiril  to  either- 
One  morning,  as  I  was  stand'.ng  in  the  gate  of  the  fort,  I  saw 
the  judge,  who  was  a  large,  fat  man,  come  towards  me,  attended 
by  Mr.  M'Kenzie,  and  a  half  breed,  called  Cambell,  and  an  old 
Naudoway  Indian.  They  came  into  the  house,  looked  from 
room  to  room,  and  at  last  entered  the  one  in  which  Selkirk  then 
was.  Cambell  followed  the  judge  in,  and  having  a  paper  in  one 
hand,  he  laid  the  other  en  Selkirk's  shoulder,  and  said  something 
I  did  not  understand.  Much  discussion  followed,  all  of  which 
was  incomprehensible  to  me  ;  but  I  observed  that  Mr.  M'Kenzie 
and  Cambell  wero  standing  near  the  whole  day.  It  was  nearly 
night  when  Nowlan  told  me  that  the  judge  had  fined  the  North 
West  a  considerable  sum,  I  think  either  three  hundred  or  three 
thousand  dollars,  and  that  Lord  Selkirk  was  released  from  arrest. 
After  this,  Mr.  M'Kenzie  and  Cambell  went  out,  and  were  much 
insulted  on  the  way  to  their  camp,  by  the  people  belonging  to 
the  Hudson's  Bay ;  but  the  judge  remained  to  dine  with  Lord 
Selkirk. 

Col.  Dickson,  who  was  now  at  Red  River,  sent  a  man  for  the 
Sioux,  as  it  was  thought  desirable  that  they  should  be  called  in, 
and  made  acquainted  with  the  state  of  afliiirs.  In  the  preceding 
winter,  after  I  had  returned  to  Pembinah,  two  Ojibbeway  women 
had  arrived  there,  with  pipes  from  the  Sioux  country,  to  invite 
(he  Ojibbeways  to  make  peace.  These  women  had  been  prison- 
ers among  the  Sioux,  and  their"  release,  as  well  a.s  the  messagr 


vc 


i  t 


0  :  J 


n 


•-W4 


tanner's  NAKRATIVK. 


/it. 


t'^ 


I  :'  .-* 


they  bore,  was  considered  as  indicative  of  a  disposition  on  tho 
part  of  the  Sioux  to  bring  about  a  peace  with  the  Ojibbeways. 

One  of  these  women  had  been  married   to  a  Hioux,  and  l\ei- 
husband  had  become  attached  to  her.     When  the  common  voice 
of  his  people  made  it  necessary  she  should  be  sent  back  to  her 
own   country,   he  sent  a  mesHajre  to  her  husband,  among  tlic 
Ojibbeways,   offering   to  give  him,  in  exciiange   for  her,   which- 
ever of  his  own  wives  the  Ojibbeway  might  choose  to  take.    Hut 
this   man  was  not  disposed  to  accept  the  olfer  of  the  Sioux,  and 
there  was   no  one  to  return   to  answer  the  messages  the  women 
had  brought,  until  Mr.  Bruce,  the  interpreter  before  mentioned, 
offered  his  services.     These  negotiations,  though  they  had  pro- 
duced little  apparent  eflect,  had  pre))ared  the  minds  of  the  Sioux, 
in  some  measure,  for  the  message  from  Mr.  Dickson,  and  the\- 
sent,  according  to  his  request,  twejity-two  men,  and  two  Ojibbeway 
prisoners,  that  were  to  be  given  up.     One  of  these  prisoners  was  a 
young  woman,  the  daughter  of  Gitche-o[)e-zhe-ke,  (the  big  bufliiloe,) 
and  she  also  had  been  married  among  the  Sioux.     Her  husband, 
who  was  one  of  the  twenty  two  who  now  arrived,  was  a  young 
man,  and  was  extremely  fond  of  his  Ojibbeway  wife.  The  chiefs  of 
the  party,  when  they  were  about  to  return,  tried  to  persuade  him 
to  leave  her ;  but  this  he  obstinately  refused   to  do,  and  the}- 
were  at  last  compelled  to  abandon  him,  though  it  was  evidently 
at  the  imminent  peril  of  his  life,  that  he  ventured  to  remain  by 
himself  among  the  Ojibbeways.     After  his  companions  had  left 
him,  he  went  out,  and  wandered  about,  crying  hke  a  child.    See- 
ing his  distress,  I  called  him  into  my  lodge,  and  though,  on  ac- 
count of  difference  of  language,  I  could  not  say  much  to  him,  I 
endeavoured  to  console  him,  and  make  him  believe  that  he  would 
find  some  friends  ev»'n  among  the  Ojil)beways.     On  the  follow- 
ing day,  he  deternuned  to  follow  his  companions,  and  to  return 
to  hi^  own  country.     He  started  out,  and   followed  along  their 
path  two  or  three  hinidred  yards,   tluMi  he  threw  himself  down 
upon  the  ground,   cried,  and  rolled  about  like  a  mad  man ;  but 
his  affection  for  his  wife  getting  the  better  of  his  wish  to  return. 
and  his  fears  for  his  own  life,  he  came  back,  and  would  have  re- 
mained among  us.     But  about  this  time  we  heard  of  other  Ojib- 
beways, who  had  threatened  to  come  and  kill  him,  and  we  well 
Ttnew  th»t  it  would  be  scarce  possible  for  him  to  remain  loni 


TANNKU  S    .>AUU.VllVi:. 


««5 


ainou"  us,  wiihmit  nllenipts  hinng  made  against  liis  lite.  Wa- 
ge-tote and  Bo-g\vais,  our  chit-fs,  intcrlVrcd  tu  send  liim  a\vay» 
and  having  selected  eiirht  trusty  men,  of  whom  I  was  one,  di- 
rected that  he  should  be  taken  (uu;  day's  journey  towards  the 
Sioux  country.  We  were  compelled  to  drag  him  away  by  vio- 
lence, nor  could  we  urge  him  forward  in  any  other  manner,  un- 
til we  arrived  at  the  crossing  place  of  the  Assinneboin  River, 
where  we  met  a  party  of  two  hundred  Assinneboins.  The  young 
Sioux  hai"  taken  the  precaution  to  dress  himself  like  an  Ojibbe- 
wav,  and  when  the  thief  of  the  Assinneboins  asked  lis  where  we 
were  going,  we  told  him  our  chiefs  liad  sent  us  to  hunt  buflaloc. 
This  man,  Nc-zlio-ta-we-nau-ba,  was  a  good  and  discreet  chief, 
and  although  the  terror  of  the  young  Sioux  immediately  made 
him  acquainted  with  the  deception  we  trie<l  to  practice  upon 
him,  he  appeared  to  take  no  notice  of  it ;  he  even  placed  him- 
self in  such  a  situation  as  to  divert  the  attention  of  his  own  peo- 
ple from  the  young  man,  until  the  band  had  passed.  He  then 
addressed  the  Sioux  in  his  own  language  :  "  Fly,  young  man," 
said  he,  "  and  remember  if  you  are  overtaken  before  you  rcacli 
your  own  country,  there  are  few  among  the  Assinneboins,  or 
Ojibbeways,  who  Avould  not  gladly  take  your  life."  The  young 
man  started  to  run  accordingly.  At  the  distance  of  one  hundred 
yards  we  heard  him  burst  out  crying ;  but  afterwards,  we  under- 
stood that  he  overtook  his  party  at  Pembinah,  and  returned  in 
safety  to  his  own  country. 

Much  was  said  of  this  peace  between  the  Sioux  and  Ojibbo- 
way.i,  and  Col.  Dickson  often  boasted  that  the  Sioux  would  not 
be  the  first  to  violate  the  treaty,  as  he  said  they  would  venture 
to  do  nothing  without  his  consent.  He  was  even  boasting  in 
this  way,  when  a  chief  of  the  Ojibbeways,  with  forty  men,  ar- 
rived, having  in  their  hands  the  still  bloody  arrows  they  had 
taken  from  the  bodies  of  those  the  Sioux  had  recently  killed  at  a 
trading-house  belonging  to  Mr.  Dickson  himself.  This,  for  some 
time,  checked  his  boasting.  Lord  Selkirk,  also,  about  the  same 
time,  called  all  the  Indians  together,  and  presenting  them  a  quan- 
tity of  tobacco,  spirits,  &c.  &c.  made  (»ne  of  those  long  and  fa- 
tlicrly  speeches  so  common  in  Indian  councils.  "  My  children," 
said  he,  "  the  sky  which  has  long  been  dark  and  cloudy  over 
^onr  heads,  is  now  once  m<)re  clear  and  bright.     Your  great 

'?0 


\ 


r  'V 


!'l 


7:*^-"^ 


m  4 


aati 


lA.NiNtR  6    .NAKRAin  i;. 


if 


:/• 


1 

l 

4 
t 

111 

f 

( 

■  ( 

1 

\     ^ 

i 

I'athor  beyond  tlie  waters,  who  lias  ever,  as  you  know,  ueaiesi 
his  licart  the  interests  of  his  red  chikhen,  has  sent  me  to  remove 
tlie  briars  out  of  your  patli,  that  your  feet  may  no  more  bleed. 
We  have  taken  care  to  remove  from  you  those  evil  minded  whiU; 
men  who  sought,  for  the  sake  of  their  own  prolit,  to  make  you 
forget  your  duty  to  your  great  father ;  they  will  no  more 
return  to  trouble  you.  We  have  also  called  to  us  the  Sioux, 
w  ho,  lliough  their  skins  are  red,  like  your  own,  have  long  been 
your  enemies.  They  are  henceforth  to  remain  in  their  own  coun- 
try. This  peace  now  places  you  in  safety.  Long  before  your 
fathers  were  born,  this  war  began,  and  instead  of  quietly  pur- 
suing tlie  game  for  the  sui)port  of  your  women  and  children,  yon 
Jiave  bettn  murdering  one  another ;  but  that  time  has  passed 
away,  and  you  can  now  hunt  where  you  please.  Your  yount; 
men  nuist  observe  this  peace  ;  and  your  great  father  will  consi- 
der as  his  enemy  any  one  who  takes  #ip  the  tomahawk." 

The  Indians  answered  with  the  usual  j)romises  and  pro- 
fessions, and  being  about  to  leave  the  fort  that  evening,  they 
stole  every  horse-  belonginir  to  Lord  Selkirk  aiul  his  party.  In 
the  morniiiir,  not  a  single  horse  was  left,  and  the  Indians  had 
most  of  ihem  disappeared  also.      ' 

It  was  now  so  late  that  I  could  not  come  that  fall  to  the  stati'>. 
Lord  Selkirk  having,  jn  ihaps,  heard  souHUiiing  of  my  history, 
began  to  be  attentive  to  mv.  ile  inijuired  about  the  events  nl 
my  past  life,  and  1  related  many  things  to  him,  parti«'ularly  llic 
part  I  had  borne  in  capturing  the  fort.     Judge;  Codman,*  also, 

*  -Miiiiy  ot'ilif  iiaiiics  (irwhilo  nioii,  in  tlir  uortli  wp.-.t,  and  in  ntlirr  purls  til'lhi 
country,  wliii'h  sire  infiiiioni'd  in  tins  narrative,  arc  grossly  inisspclt ;  tlu-Mim 
|irniri|)l(' liavinij  licrn  t'ollnvvt-d  in  writinir  IhiII)  l'(prt'ii;n  and  Indian  names,  in  ah 
in>tanccs  where  llie  name  the  narrator  intendi'd  to  nienlion  did  not  iinnieili,i!ii 
recur  to  the  reeolleetion  oil  lie  writer.  'I'hus  t'odmanishere  written  for  Coll  uutii , 
ill  other  placets  Maveen  for  \Iaii\rilh' ;  1'uKiienon  liir  D'Hrsonnrns;  &c.  It  is 
oUo  not  iniprolialile  lliat  names  iiiny  lia\e  iM'coiiie  e.iiil'oiiiided  in  the  mind  of  our 
hunter  himself,  wiio  apfiears  to  ha\e  Ihtu  more  conversant  with  Indians  tli.iu 
wlutenien.  Thus,  in  liis  account  of  tiip  murder  of  a  (rovernor  of  the  Hudson's  li.iy 
(onipany,  of  llie  nameof  M'DoiiaM,  or  .M'llollaiid,  he  may  (nissilily  have  used  mu 
of  these  names  in  place  ol  thni  of  .Mr.  Seinple,  who  was  one  of  the  victims  to  llial 
spirit  of  liliMidy  tivulry  which  (xrasioneil  Ihesi-  troubles  lirlwern  tho  tmihiiucoin- 
jmiueH.  This  wnnt  of  precision,  particularly  in  the  s|(ellini;of  name.-,  will  not, 
t«ith  tliee.indid.  imp.in' liie  crcilil<diiy  oftliis  linml<lc  nurraliM' 


■  V 


.\N 


lAXNtR  S    NARRATlHi. 


aat 


wlio  remained  tliere,  often  spoke  to  Lurk  Selkirk  rrsipectius;  nic. 
"  This  man,"  said  he,  "  conducted  your  party  from  the  Lake  of 
the  Woods  hither,  in  the  winter  season,  and  performed  a  very 
important  part  in  the  taking  of  this  fort,  at  the  expense  of  great 
labour,  and  at  the  hazard  of  his  life,  and  all  for  the  sum  of  forty 
dollars.  The  least  you  ought  to  do  is  to  make  his  forty  dol- 
lars eighty,  and  give  him  an  annuity  of  twenty  dollars  per  year 
for  life."  Lord  Selkirk  did  acordingly.  The  annuity  for  tlic 
five  first  years  has  been  paid  mi".  'J'hc  second  five  have  not  jet 
expired. 

Lord  Selkirk  was  not  able  to  leave  the  month  of  the  Assinne- 
buiii  so  early  as  he  had  ii\lendfd,  fur  tcir  of  the  North  \Ve>i. 
They  had  sent  men,  disguised  as  Indian-^,  iinioiig  whom  was  one 
they  called  Sacksayre;  they  hitd  also  sent  Indians,  with  in- 
structions to  waylay  and  nuirder  him.  Htariii!'  of  tlii-;.  lie  . 
thought  it  best  to  despatch  Col.  Dickson  to  the  Sionx  country 
(or  a  guard  of  one  hundred  Sioux,  ami  it  was  not  until  these  m- 
rived,  that  he  dared  venline  out.  Tin  ii  he  escaped  i'rom  the 
tort  at  night,  and  joined  Dickson  at  Pembiiuih. 

He  took  with  him  a  letter,  wiiich  he  had  himself  written  fur 
me,  ami  in  my  name,  to  my  fi  ieiu!«  in  the  states,  ijiviiiji  scmie  ul 
the  most  prominent  of  the  particulars  of  my  early  hisiury.  Ilr 
had  tised  much  persuasion  to  induce  me  to  accompany  him,  aiul 
1  had  inclination  enough  to  do  so;  but  1  then  belit  \tti  lliat  1110^1 
of  my  near  relatives  had  been  nuirdered  b\  the  Indians;  ami  il 
any  remained,  I  knew  that  so  onat  a  lap-^e  ipf  time  must  liu\e 
made  us,  in  ail  respects,  like  strangers  to  cnIi  other.  lie  alsu 
|iroposed  to  take  me  to  England  with  hin>;  but  my  attachnn-uls 
were  among  the  Indians,  and  m\  homo  was  in  the  Indian  c.ouU' 
tiv.  I  hat!  spent  great  part  of  m\  lil'e  there,  and  I  knew  it  wa« 
iP()  late  for  me  to  form  new  association^,  lie  howe\(  r  sent  six 
uu'n  to  take  me  to  the  Lake  of  the  Wood^.  where  I  arrived  late 
111  the  tall,  after  the  corn  was  gatiu'red.  In  the  begiiming  of 
winter,  I  wtnt  to  the  Be-gwi-o-nus-ko  Lake,  thence,  when  the 
>iiow  had  fullen,  to  the  prairie,  to  hunt  bullalMe. 

The  Indians  gathered  annmd,  one  aftrr  another,  until  we  be- 
came a  consid'Table  band,  and  then  we  began  to  snller  of  hunsier. 
The  weather  was  very  severe,  and  our  suHiring  iiu'reased.  .V 
voimg  woinnti  was  the  first  lo  die  of  hunuer.     Suun  nfter  tbi>'.  a 


'^^ 


J  a.\M:;r  ft;  NVRiiAin  i;. 


young  man,  her  brother,  was  taken  with  tliat  kind  of  deUriuni, 
i»r  madness,  which  precedes  death  in  such  as  die  of  starvation. 
In  this  condition,  he  had  left  tlie  lodge  of  his  debilitated  and 
desponding  parents  ;  and  when,  at  a  late  hour  in  the  evening,  I 
returned  from  my  hunt,  they  could  not  tell  what  had  become  of 
him.  I  left  the  camp  about  the  middle  of  the  night,  and  follow- 
ing his  track,  I  found  him  at  some  distance  lying  dead  in  tlie 
snow. 


i    :      ■   ^^    ' 


Ai^      '      ' 


•<:  ■: 


'I-  -'* , 


■'       4 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Sufl'frinjis  of  llip  Ojibboways  from  liungrr — persecutions  of  Waw-lio-bi'-nai-sa,  and 
unkiiidncssof  my  Indian  rdiitivos — journoy  to  Detroit — Governor  Cass — coun- 
cil at  St.  Mury,  on  the  Miami. 

All  the  men  who  were  still  able  to  walk,  now  determined  U> 
yitart  after  buffaloe,  which  we  knew  could  not  then  be  very  near 
us.  For  my  own  pari,  I  chose  to  remain,  as  did  one  good  huntor 
besides,  who  knew  that  the  prospect  of  getting  buffaloes  was  not 
good.  We  remained  beiiind,  and  in  a  sliorl  lime  killed  live 
moose;  all  the  flesh  af  whicli  being  immediately  distributed 
among  the  sufl'ering  women  and  children,  alTorded  some  reliel. 
and  checked  the  progress  of  death,  wliich  was  making  extensive 
havoc  among  \is.  The  ni*  u  rcttinioil  one  after  another,  more 
worn  out  and  reduced  than  when  they  had  left  us.  Oidy  a  single 
buffaloc  had  been  killed.  As  the  most  incessant,  and  the  inost 
laborious  exertions  alone,  could  save  us  from  perishing,  1  went 
immediately  out  lo  hunt  again,  and  having  ^•tilrted  a  bear,  I  pur- 
sued him  for  three  (lays,  Milhout  b<  iiiL,^  able  to  come  up  with  him. 
At  the  end  of  this  time  I  found  myself  so  fur  exhausted,  tiiat  1 
knew  I  could  never  overtake  the  bear,  and  I  should  not  have 
reached  home,  liad  not  some  Indiuiis,  litllo  less  miserable  and 
hungry  than  myself,  happened  t.i  meet  with  me.  I  had  slopped 
at  night,  and  being  in\a!)le  to  make  a  camp,  or  kindle  a  tire,  I 
was  endeavouring  to  reconcile  myself  to  the  immediate  u|)proacli 
of  death,  which  I  thought  inevitable,  when  these  people  unex- 
pectedly found  me,  and  helped  me  to  return  to  camp.  This  !•< 
but  a  fair  epecimcn  of  the  life  which  many  of  the  Ojibbcways  of 


\ 


-^  am 


'■*i^e=^  ■#-  -.*^.^«»*-ie  .  ^ 


\.>^ 


TANNER  si    N'AKUATIVt:. 


'i'iU 


delirium, 
tarvation. 
tateil  and 
jvening,  I 
ecome  of 
11(1  follow- 
cad  in  the 


termincd  to 

)e  very  noiir 

jvood  huutor 

loos  was  not 

>   killed   livo 

distributed 

some  relicl. 

ntr  extensivr 

ither,  niovf 

D,ilyasi»^l<- 

11(1  tlie  nio-t 
iin<l,  1  wem 
bear,  I  \m\- 

up  with  liiui. 

lUsted,  that  1 

lid  not  have 

iserablc  ami 

had  slo\)l>eil 

ndle  n  lire,  I 

iite  u])i)roaeli 

n'ople  unex- 

|)np.     This  i^ 

lihbcways  of 


the  norili  lead  during  the  winter.  Their  barren  an<l  inhospitable 
fountry  affords  them  so  ^  antily  the  meaiis  of  subsistence,  that 
it  is  only  with  the  utmost  exertion  an«l  activity,  that  life  can  be 
sustained ;  and  it  not  unfrequentiy  happens  that  the  strongest 
men,  and  the  best  hunters,  perish  of  absolute  hunger. 

Now  the  Indians  again  determined  to  move  all  together,  to- 
wards the  buffaloes,  and  endeavour  to  reach  them  with  their  fami- 
lies. Only  Oon-di-no,  the  man  who  had  remained  with  me  be- 
fore, wislied  to  stay,  that  his  women  might  dry  the  skin  of  the 
last  moose  he  had  killed,  so  that  they  might  carry  it  with  them, 
to  be  eaten  in  case  of  the  failure  of  all  other  supplies.  I  conclu- 
ded to  remain  with  him  ;  but  in  the  middle  of  the  first  night  after 
the  Indians  left,  the  distress  of  my  children  became  so  great,  that 
I  could  no  longer  remain  in  my  lodge.  I  got  up  and  started,  and 
told  liim  that  if  I  could  kill  or  procure  any  game,  I  would  return 
to  his  relief.  I  pursued,  iaj)idly  as  my  strength  would  permit, 
the  path  of  the  Indians,  and  about  morning  came  up  with  their 
ramp.  I  had  no  sooner  arrived,  than  I  heard  the  sounds  of  a 
feast  and  going  up  to  the  lodge,  I  Jicard  the  voice  of  an  old  man, 
llianking  the  Great  Spirit  for  the  supply  that  had  been  bestowed 
ill  the  time  of  their  necessity.  He  did  not  mention  the  animal 
by  name  that  had  been  killed,  only  calling  it  Manito-wais-sc, 
which  means  nearly  "  Spirit  beast."  From  this  I  could  not  as- 
certain what  had  been  killed,  but  from  another  source,  I  learned 
i:  was  an  old  and  poor  buffaloe.  From  this  I  inferred  that  herds 
must  be  near,  and  two  young  men  being  willing  to  join  me,  wc 
went  immediately  in  tlie  direction  in  which  we  believed  the  herd 
would  be  found,  and  after  having  walked  aliout  three  hours,  as- 
rended  a  little  hill,  and  saw  before  us  the  ground  black  with  buf- 
faloes. We  crawled  tip,  and  I  killed  immediately  two  fat  cows. 
As  I  was  cutting  these  up,  I  began  to  hear  the  guns  of  the  men 
of  our  party,  they  having  followed  me  on,  antl  being  now  arrived 
among  the  buffaloes.  It  Avas  somewhat  late  when  I  was  ready  to 
go  to  our  camp,  most  of  the  men  were  in  before  me.  I  had  ex- 
pected to  have  heard  t!ie  sounds  of  feastinuf  and  rejoicing ;  but 
when  I  entered  the  camp,  not  a  voice  was  to  l)e  heard.  No  wo- 
men and  children  were  running  about,  all  was  silent  and  sad. 
Can  it  be,  thouglit  I,  that  this  relief  has  come  too  late,  and  (hat 
our  women  and  children  are  all  dead.     I  looked  into  one  lodire 


•A 


r  I 


llrir 


jj30 


i'AXNERS    NARRATIVE. 


after  another;  in  all,  the  people  were  alive,  but  none  hail  aii\ 
thing  to  eat.  The  men  having  most  of  them  come  from  a  forcsi 
country,  anil  having  never  hunted  buffaloe  before,  all  failed  to 
kill  except  myself.  The  supply  I  had  brought,  I  having  loaded 
the  two  young  men  that  were  with  me,  somewhat  allayed  the 
hunger  that  was  prevailing. 

There  was  at  this  time  with  us,  a  man  called  Waw-bebc-nal- 
sa,  (White  Bird,)  ivitli  whom  I  had  formerly  been  somewhat  ac- 
quainted, aiul  whose  jealousy  and  ill  will  against  me,  seemed  lo 
be  excited  and  irritated  by  my  success  in  hunting.  It  was  on  ac- 
count of  this  man,  and  because  I  wished  to  avoid  all  ostentation, 
that  I  now  forbore  to  make  a  feast  in  my  own  lodge,  as  woiilt! 
have  been  proper  for  mo  to  have  done  on  this  occasion.  Never- 
tiieiess,  one  of  the  younu  men  who  had  been  with  nie  inado  . 
least,  and  I,  after  reserving  sutFicient  food  to  allay  the  prcssinir 
hunger  of  my  own  children,  sent  the  remainder  to  the  faniilit- 
about  me.  The  young  num  who  made  the  feast,  called,  amonii 
others,  Waw-bt!>e-nais-sa,  the  man  I  have  mentioned.  In  tlii 
course  of  the  evening,  he  said,  as  I  understood,  much  to  prejudici 
tne  in  the  opinion  of  the  Indians ;  accusing  me  of  pride,  insolence, 
and  of  having  in  various  ways  done  mischief  among  them.  Hi; 
1  remained  in  my  own  lodge,  and  at  present  took  no  notice  ol 
this,  further  than  to  contradict  his  unfair  statements. 

Next  morning,  long  before  the  dawn,  the  women  started  1',.: 
the  remains  of  the  two  bullaloe  1  had  killed:  aiul  several  of  tin 
men,  most  of  them  having  obtained  from  me  some  instruction 
iihcnit  the  part  to  be  aimed  at,  again  went  in  pursuit  of  the  henls, 
iind  this  day  several  of  them  killed.  We  soon  had  pkntv  d! 
meat,  and  all  that  were  sick  and  near  death  recovered,  except  om 
woman,  who  having  gone  mad  with  hunger,  remained  in  a  slitl 
of  derangemenf  f<a*  more  than  a  month. 

The  principal  man  (tf  this  band  was  called  O-poih-gini,*  (iiii  *' 
pipe.)  He,  with  llirec  lodges,  remained  with  nn-,  the  otlicis 
scattered  here  and  there  in  pursuit  of  the  bullaloe.  One  of  tin 
mm  who  remained  back  with  me,  was  Waw-bebe-nais-sa,  and 
another  his  son-in-law.  I  killed  great  nimdx-rs  of  fat  IiuDIiIik. 
and  the  choice  parts  of  forty  of  them  I  had  dried.     We  had  su;- 


•)  (xnh-jjuii— i)i|)o ;  0-)H)ili-Run-niin — jtiiK*.". 


1    j 


,  • 


^ 


JAN^tRS    XARKAllVi;. 


231 


had  any 
a  a  lorcsi 

tailed  tit 
nu  loaded 
ilaycd  llu: 

,'-bcbe-nui- 
newhat  ae- 
secmed  to 
was  on  ac- 
islenlatioii, 
e,  as  woiilil 
,n.     Nevev- 
nie,  made  ■ 
Lhc  prossiiKi 
llip  lamilii« 
lUcd,  amonu 
lU'd.     In  ill. 
I  to  prejudici 
]v,  insolence. 
r  thoni.     Rii 
no  iioliee  ut 

n  started  lo 
several  of  tin 
ic  instruetit)!! 
«>f  thfi  lienl^. 
ad  \'>\v\\\\  o! 
d,  exeeptoiii 
u<d  in  a  stut 

,ih-i>uii/  (lii' 
.,  the   otliei' 
One  nl'  tin 
-nais-sa,  ami 
If  fat  liulValne. 
\Vi!  had  sill- 


j'ered  so  much  from  hunger,  tliat  I  wislicd  to  secure  my  family 
af^ainst  a  rctmn  of  it.  I  also  still  had  it  in  contemplation  to  make 
my  way  to  tlic  States,  when  I  knew  it  would  be  necessary  for  mo 
to  leave  them  for  some  lime,  without  any  one  to  hunt  for  tliem. 
1  made  twenty  large  sacks  of  pemmican  ;  ten  kegs  of  ten  gallons 
eacli,  which  I  procured  from  the  Indians,  I  filled  with  tallow,  and 
jireserved,  besides,  a  considerable  number  of  tongues,  &c. 

It  was  not  immediately  that  I  discovered  Waw-bebe-nais-sa's 
design  in  remaining  near  my  camp,  which  was  solely  to,  annoy 
;ind  molest  me.  I  had  such  large  quantities  of  meat  to  carry, 
when  we  came  finally  to  move,  that  I  was  compelled  to  return 
M'ith  my  dogs  four  time!5,  to  carry  forward  to  my  camping  place, 
one  load  after  another.  One  day  he  contrived  to  meet  me  alo^e^V 
at  the  place  where  I  deposited  my  loads,  and  I  had  no  sooner 
slopped,  tlian  he  thrust  both  his  hands  into  my  long  hair,  which 
ihen  hung  down  on  both  sides  of  my  head.  "  This,"  said  he,  ''  is 
the  head  of  your  road,  look  down  and  see  the  place  where  the 
wolves  and  the  carrion  birds  shall  pick  your  bones."  I  asketl 
Iiim  why  he  ofTered  me  this  violence.  "You  are  a  stranger," 
said  he,  "and  have  no  right  among  us;  but  you  set  youself  up 
for  the  best  hunter,  and  would  make  us  treat  you  as  a  great  man. 
For  my  own  part,  I  have  long  been  weary  of  your  insolence,  and 
T  am  determined  you  shall  not  live  another  day."  Finding  that 
lemonstranee  was  likely  to  have  no  eflect  upon  him,  but  that  he 
was  proceeding  to  beat  my  head  against  a  po])lar  tree  that  siooi! 
there,  by  a  sudden  exertion  of  strength,  I  threw  him  uptm  the 
j;round,  and  disengaged  uiy  head  at  the  expense  of  part  of  my 
iiair.  But  in  the  struirgle,  he  cauglit  three  of  the  fingers  of  my 
light  hand  between  his  teeth.  Having  sunk  his  strong  teeth  <\uite 
til  the  hones  of  my  fingers,  I  could  not  draw  them  out  of  his 
mouth,  but  witli  my  left  haml  aimed  a  blow  at  one  of  his  eyes  ; 
his  jaws  flew  open,  and  he  leapt  instantly  to  his  feet.  My  toma- 
hawk was  lying  near  me,  and  his  eye  happening  to  fall  upoi\  it. 
lu^  caught  it  in  his  hand,  and  aimed  so  hearty  a  blow  at  my  head, 
that  as  I  eluded  it,  his  own  \  iolence  brought  him  to  the  ground. 
I  juinped  upon  him,  wrenched  the  tomahawk  fVnn>  his  hand,  and 
ilirew  it  as  far  a>  I  could,  while  I  contii\ued  to  hold  him  fast  in 
the  gr(»und.  I  was  uuieh  enraged  at  his  uiiproAol<ed  and  violeni 
attack  n|.oi,  me:  nevertheless  I  would   nut  kill   him.  but  sei  iiiu 


'■' 


1 


-V , 


!       ■   iV.       ' 


TANNER  3    NARRATIVJ.. 

there  a  piece  of  a  stout  lodge  pole,  I  caught  it  in  my  hands,  and 
told  him  to  get  up.  When  he  did  so,  I  commenced  beating  him; 
and  as  he  fled  immediately,  I  followed,  and  continued  to  beat  him 
while  he  ran  two  or  three  hundred  yards. 

When  I  returned  to  my  load,  his  son-in-law  and  two  other 
young  men  belonging  to  him,  having  heard  his  cries,  had  come 
up.  One  of  them  said  angrily  to  me,  "  what  is  this  you  have 
done  ?"  and  immediately  the  three  rushed  upon  me,  ard  I  being 
already  overcome  »vith  fatigue,  they  threw  me  upon  the  ground. 
At  this  time  Waw-bebe-nais-sa  had  returned,  and  he  caught  mti 
by  a  black  silk  handkerchief  that  I  wore  about  my  neck,  stran- 
gled, kicked,  and  beat  me,  and  thrust  me  down  in  the  snow.  I 
remember  hearing  one  of  them  say,  "  he  is  dead,"  and  as  I  knew 
I  could  not  hope,  while  I  was  down,  to  make  resistance  against 
four,  I  endeavoured  to  encourage  this  opinion.  When  they  took 
their  hands  olT  me,  and  stood  at  a  little  distance,  I  sprang  upon 
my  feet,  and  seized  a  lodge  pole,  probably  very  contrary  to  their 
expectations.  Whether  through  surprise  or  fear  I  know  not, 
they  all  fled,  and  seeing  this,  I  pursued  Waw-bebe-nais-sa,  and 
gave  him  another  severe  beating  with  uiy  pole.  For  this  time 
they  left  me,  and  I  returned  once  more  to  hang  up  the  meat  I  hud 
brought.  But  Waw-l)ebe-nais-sa  and  his  people  returned  to  the 
lodges,  where  my  dogs,  which  my  wife  had  taken  back,  were 
lying,  much  fatigued,  before  the  door.  He  drew  his  knife,  and 
stabbed  one  of  them.  My  wife  hearing  the  noise,  ran  out,  but 
lie  threatened  to  kill  her  also. 

jNoxt  (lay,  as  .Vaw-bcbe-nai.-s-sa  was  much  bruised  and  sore, 
and  his  face  in  particular  very  badly  swollen,  I  thought  probable 
he  would  remain  in  his  lodge;  and  apprehending  danger  to  my 
wife,  if  she  should  be  left  alone  in  the  lodge,  I  sent  her  to  cany 
forward  meat,  and  remained  myself  at  home.  But  I  was  much 
fatigued,  and  being  alone  in  my  lodge,  about  the  middle  of  the 
day  I  fell  asleep.  Suspecting,  or  perhaps  knowing  this,  Waw- 
bebe-nais-sa  crept  slyly  in  with  his  knife  in  his  hand,  and  was 
almost  near  enough  to  strike  me,  when  I  awoke  and  sprang  up. 
As  I  was  not  unarmed,  he  started  back  and  fled,  but  I  did  not 
pursue  him.  lie  still  continued  to  fhreaten  and  molest  me. 
Whenever  he  met  me  in  the  path,  he  would  not  turn  aside,  thou<;li 
lie  was  unloaded,  and  I  might  have  a  heavy  burthen  on  niv  bad. 


U 


i'  ■fM 


^Xl 


s\\    ^ 


'■\1 


rANXER's  Narrative. 


'^33 


ids,  anJ 
ng  him; 
)eat  him 

\io  other 
lad  come 
/^ou  have 
I  1  being 
i  ground, 
aught  me 
ck,  stran- 
snow.     I 
as  1  knew 
ce  against 
I  they  took 
rang  upon 
,ry  to  their 
know  not, 
\ais-sa,  and 
ir  this  time 
!  meat  1  had 
rned  to  the 
back,  were 
knife,  and 
•an  out.  but 


His  eye  was  I'or  many  days  so  swollen  that  he  could  not  sec  out 
of  it,  and  his  whole  appearance  very  ludicrous,  he  being  at  best 
lint  an  awkward  and  homely  man.  Once,  after  an  unsuccessful 
uttcmpt  to  slab  me,  he  went  home,  and  in  the  impatience  of  his 
Ijullled  rairp,  nuide  the  S(juaw's  gesture  of  tonlempt  towards  my 
lodge,*  which  exposed  him  to  the  ridicule,  even  oi  his  own  friends 
among  the  Indians. 

His  persecutions  were,  howev<'r,  troublesome  to  ine,  and  I  en- 
deavoured to  avoid  him.  One  day  I  had  j)receded  the  jjarty,  and 
as  we  were  tni veiling  in  a  beaten  i)ath,  which  I  knew  they  would 
follow,  I  turned  a  little  out  of  it,  to  place  my  camp  where  1  should 
not  necessarily  be  in  the  way  of  seeing  him.  But  when  hecanio 
(o  the  fork  of  my  road,  with  his  little  son  twelve  years  old,  I 
lieard  him  say  to  the  lad,  "stop  here  while  I  go  and  kill  thin 
white  man."  He  thei\  threw  down  Iiis  load,  and  though  his  son 
entreated  him  not  to  do  any  thing,  he  came  up  within  about  lifty 
yards  of  me,  drew  his  gim  from  its  ca-e,  cocked  it,  and  jiointed  it 
at  me.  Having  lield  it  in  this  position  some  time,  and  seeing  h»? 
(lid  not  excite  my  fears,  he  began  to  appro.uh  me,  jumping  from 
-ide  to  side,  and  yelling  in  the  manner  of  warriors  when  they  ap- 
proach each  other  in  battle.  He  continued  pointing  his  gun  at 
me,  and  threatening  me  so  loudly,  that  I  was  at  last  irritated,  and 
caught  up  my  own  gun.  The  little  boy  ran  up,  and  throwing  his 
arms  about  me,  entreated  me  to  spare  his  father,  though  he  wai? 
a  fool.  I  then  threw  down  my  gun,  seized  the  old  man,  and  took 
his  from  him.  I  reproa»'hed  him  for  his  obstinate  perseverance 
in  such  foolish  practices.  "  I  have,"  said  I,  '•  put  myself  so  often 
in  your  power,  that  you  ought  i)y  this  time  to  know  you  have  not 
coin-age  to  kill  me.  You  are  not  a  man;  you  have  not  the  heart 
oven  of  a  scpiaw;  nor  the  coinage  of  a  ilog.  Now  for  the  first  time 
I  si)eak  to  you.  1  wish  yon  to  know  that  I  am  tired  of  your  fool- 
ishness, and  that  if  yon  trouble  me  any  more  hereafter,  it  will  be 
at  the  hazard  of  your  own  lil'e." 

He  then  left  me,  and  with  all  the  others,  except  my  own  family, 
went  on  in  advance.  Next  day  I  followed,  drawino;  a  loaded  sled 
myself,  and  driving  my  dogs,  with  their  loads,  before  me.  As  we 


/ 


{ 


* 


*     >     1 

■  -S. 

i 
f 


I' 

It,'' 


•  A'»«-«i-Aun-ji'-^a  kivi-uk  wc-ke-viah-mik:    Sf-enole  at  theendof  tke  volunlf, 
01  tlio  ixipnoiiionio  woitl  Ki'-kUh-ko^lL-kav-pe-vii 


I 


■■•**h 


\vr.  ■ 


I       f 


CM 


W  -^'^ 


4 


'   ?   1^  I'- 


HMr 


234 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVE. 


approached  a  thicket  of  bushes,  I  cautioiied  my  daughter  Martha, 
that  Waw-bebe-nais-sa  might  probably  be  lying  in  ambush  some- 
where among  them.  Presently  I  saw  lier  leap  several  feet  from 
the  ground,  then  she  came  running  towards  me,  witli  her  hands 
raised,  and  crying,  "  my  father  !  my  father  V  I  seized  my  gun 
and  sprang  forward,  examined  every  place  for  concealment,  passed 
the  lodge  poles,  and  the  almost  extinguished  fires  of  their  last 
encampment,  and  returned  witliout  having  discovered  any  thing. 
AVhen  I  inquired  of  my  daugliter  wliat  had  occasioned  her  alarm, 
she  said  she  had  "  smelt  lire."  So  great  was  the  terror  and  ap- 
prehension  with  which  her  mind  was  agitated,  on  account  of  the 
annoyances  Waw-bebe-nais-sa  had  given  us. 

I  was  80  glad  to  be  released  from  the  persecutions  of  this  trou- 
blesome man,  that  I  now  resolved  to  stop  at  Rush  Lake,  and  re- 
main there  by  myself,  as  I  thouglit  it  was  the  intention  of  Waw- 
bebe-nais-sa  and  the  other  Indians,  to  proceed  immediately  to 
the  Lake  of  the  Woods.  So  I  selected  a  place  where  I  intended 
to  establish  my  camp  for  the  remainder  of  the  winter.  Here  I 
left  my  children  to  take  care  of  tiie  lodge,  and  my  wife  and  my- 
self returned  to  bring  up  loads  of  meat.  On  coming  home  at 
night,  the  children  told  us,  their  grandmother  had  in  our  absence 
been  to  see  them,  and  had  left  word,  that  her  daughter  must  come 
on  the  following  day  to  see  her ;  and  that  there  were,  in  that 
place,  three  or  four  lodges  of  our  friends  encamped  together.  I 
readily  gave  my  consent  to  this  arrangement,  and  as  my  mother- 
in-law  had  left  a  message  particularly  for  me,  I  consented  to  ac- 
company her,  saying  that  we  could  bring  up  the  remainder  of  the 
meat  after  we  should  return.  But  that  night  I  dreamed,  and  tlir 
same  young  man  whom  I  had  repeatedly  seen  in  tlie  preparations 
for  my  medicine  hunts,  came  down  as  usual  through  the  hole  in 
the  top  of  my  lodge,  and  stood  directly  before  me.  "  You  must 
not  go,"  said  he,  "  l(}  the  place  you  propose  to  visit  to-morrow ; 
but  if  you  persist,  and  will  disregard  n»y  admcmition,  you  shall 
see  what  will  happen  to  you  there.  Look  there,"  said  he,  point- 
hig  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  I  saw  She-gwaw-koo-sink,  Me- 
zhuk-ko-naun,  and  others  of  my  friends  coming.  Then  pointing 
upwards,  he  told  mr  to  look,  and  I  saw  a  small  hawk  with  a 
banded  tail,  flying  about  over  my  head.  lie  said  no  more,  but 
turned  and  went  out  at  the  door  of  my  lodge.     I  awoke  mufh 


FAN  NEK  8  NAKUATIVEc 


aaft 


troubled  in  my  mind,  and  could  sleep  no  more.  In  the  morning. 
I  told  my  wile  I  could  not  go  witii  her.  "  Whut  is  the  reason," 
said  she,  "  you  cannot  accompany  me,  as  you  pr(»miscd  yester- 
day ?"  I  told  her  my  dream,  but  she  accused  me  of  i'ear,  and  as 
she  continued  her  solicitations,  I  finally  consented  to  go. 

In  th(!  morning,  I  told  my  children  that  their  uncle  ami  other 
Indians  would  come  to  the  lodge  that  day.  'I'hat  they  umst  tell 
them,  if  I  returned  at  al!  would  be  by  noon  :  if  I  did  not  come 
then,  they  might  conclude  I  was  dead.  I  then  started  with  my 
wife,  but  I  had  not  gone  two  hundred  yards,  when  I  looked  up 
and  saw  the  same  small  hawk  that  had  appeared  to  me  in  my 
dream.  I  knew  that  this  was  sent  to  forewarn  me  of  evil,  and 
again  I  told  my  wife  I  could  not  go.  But  though  I  turned  back 
to  go  towards  my  own  lodge,  she  again  reproached  me  with  fear, 
and  pretended  to  ridicule  my  apprehensions.  I  knew,  also,  the 
strong  prejudice  that  existed  against  me  in  the  family  of  my  mo- 
ther-in-law, and  the  tendency  of  my  refusing,  in  this  case,  to  visit 
her,  would  be  to  confirm,  and  make  them  stronger.  I  therefore, 
though  contrary  to  my  better  judgment,  consented  to  go  on. 

When  I  arrived  at  the  lodge  of  my  mother-in-law,  I  h'I't  my  gnu 
at  the  door,  went  in,  and  took  a  seat  ijetwccn  two  of  the  sisters 
of  my  wife,  who  were  the  wives  of  one  man.  They  had  young 
children,  and  1  was  playing  with  two  of  these,  with  my  head 
down,  when  I  heard  a  loud  and  sudden  noise,  and  immediately 
lost  my  senses.  I  saw  no  one,  and  I  remembered  nothing,  till  I 
began  to  revive ;  then  I  found  several  women  holding  my  hands 
and  arms,  and  I  saw  the  expression  of  terror  and  alarm  in  the 
laces  of  all  about  me.  I  could  not  comprehend  my  situation, 
and  knew  nothing  of  what  had  happened,  until  I  heard  on  th(^ 
outside  of  the  lodge,  a  loud  and  insulting  voice,  which  I  knew  to 
be  that  of  Waw-bebe-nais-sa.  I  now  began  to  feel  .something 
like  warm  water  on  my  face,  and  putting  my  hand  to  my  head,  1 
laid  my  fingers  on  my  naked  skull.  I  at  length  broke  away  from 
the  women  who  held  me,  and  pursued  after  Waw-bebe-nais-sa ; 
but  I  could  not  overtake  him,  as  the  Indians  assisted  him  in  keep- 
ing out  of  my  way.  Towards  night  I  returned  to  my  lodge, 
though  very  severely  wounded,  and,  as  I  Ixdieved,  with  the  bones 
of  my  skull  broken.  A  very  little  blood  had  run  down  upon  mj 
fiicc  when  I  was  first  wounded,  but  for  a  considerable  time  after 


t 


( 


'   M 


I 

i, 


!i; 


i 


.^,.- 


{ 


/' 


T5gl.»;-'.,   «-■' 


'^^f^i^    ^' 


,»':  ■ 


:l 


\'» 


im 


IANNF.r's   NAUnATIVi:. 


wards  nono  ilowod,  and  Uxjujrh  I  Iioard  -flranirc  noises  in  my  head, 
I  did  not  lixint  or  fall  down  until  I  reached  my  own  lodge.  My 
gnu  Waw-bcbe-nais-sa  iiad  taken  from  the  door  of  tlie  lodge  ot 
my  mother-in-law,  and  I  had  to  return  without  it. 

Ai  my  loilge,  1  found  She-gwaw-koo-sink,  Me-zhuk-ko-naim, 
and  Nah-gaun-e.-sh-kaw-waw.  a  son-in-law  of  Wa-ge-tote,  more 
commonly  called  Olo-i)un-ne-l)e.  Tiie  moment  I  took  She-gwaw- 
koo-sink  by  the  hand,  the  blood  si)outed  in  a  stream  from  my 
head.  "  What  is  the  matter  my  son  T'  said  he.  "  I  have  been  at 
play  with  another  man,  and  the  water  of  the  J3e-gwi-o-mus-ko 
Jiaving  made  us  drunk,  we  have  j)layed  rather  roughly."  I  wished 
io  treat  the  matter  lightly,  but  as  I  inunediately  fainted  away, 
they  saw  the  extent  of  the  wouiul  I  had  received.  Oto-pun-ne- 
l)e  had  formerly  been  an  acquaintance  of  mint-,  and  had  always 
fshown  a  friendly  disposition  towards  me.  He  now  seemed  much 
flflerted  at  my  misfortune,  and  of  liis  own  accord,  undertook  to 
punish  Waw-bebe-nais-sa  for  his  unjust  violence.  This  man,  to 
■wlunn  I  was  often  under  obligation  for  the  kindnesses  he  be- 
stowed upon  nn;,  has  since  exj)erienced  the  fate  which  overtakes 
^o  many  of  all  characters  and  descriptions  of  peojjle  among  tin; 
Ojibbeways  of  that  country:  he  has  perished  of  hunger. 

When  I  had  entered  the  lodge  of  my  mother-in-law,  I  had 
omitted  to  pull  off  the  hood  of  my  thick  moose-sl  in  capote,  and 
it  was  this  which  prevented  me  from  noticing  the  entrance  of 
Waw-beb'e-nais-sa  into  the  lodge,  or  seeing,  or  heating  his  ap- 
proach towards  me.  It  is  prol)ablc  also,  that  had  not  my  head 
been  thus  covered,  the  blow,  had  it  been  made,  would  have  proved 
instantly  I'atal  to  me,  as  the  force  of  it  nnist  have  been  somewhat 
broken  by  this  thick  covering  of  leather.  But  as  it  M'as,  tlie 
skull  was  fractured,  and  there  is  still  a  large  ridge  upon  that  part 
<?f  it  where  the  edge  of  the  tomahawk  fell.  It  was  very  long  be- 
fore I  recovered  from  this  wound,  though  the  immediate  confinr- 
nient  which  followed  it,  did  not  last  so  long  as  I  had  feared  il 
must. 

Waw-bebe-nais-sa  fled  immediately  to  our  village  at  Me-naw- 
7he-tau-naung ;  and  the  remainder  of  the  people,  having  never 
hunted  in  the  prairie  before,  now  b(!came  panic  struck,  at  the 
idea  that  the  Hioux  would  fall  upon  their  trail  and  pursue  them. 
I  was  too  weak  to  travel,  and  moreover  I  knew  well  we  were  in 


ii! 


( 


v^ 


s, 


\ 


Tanner's  naiirativk. 


•43't 


)io  (larifff  r  from  the  Sioux  ;  but  my  mothrr-in-law  found  much 
fault  because  1  was  not  williuj^  to  sUut  willi  the  Indians.  I  i<new 
that  my  mollu'r-in-law,  and  I  had  reason  t((siij)j)osc  that  my  wife, 
liad  been  willing  to  aid  Waw-bebe-nais-su  in  his  attein[)l  on  my 
hfe,  and  I  therefore  told  them  both  to  leave  me  if  they  wished. 
They  went  accordinjrjy,  and  took  all  my  childicn  with  them.  The 
only  person  who  did  not  desert  me  at  ihi^  tinus  was  Oto-pun-ne- 
he,  as  he  was  called  t'roni  his  bear  totem,  with  his  cousin,  a  lad 
o(  fourteen  years  old.  These  two  remained  and  perlMined  for 
me  those  offices  of  attention  and  kindness  which  my  situation 
retjuired,  while  those  who  should  have  been  my  li  lends  abandon- 
ed nu'  to  my  fate.  Alter  the  lourlh  day,  I  became  much  worse, 
and  was  unable  to  sit  up,  aiul  almost  to  move,  until  the  tenth 
daj',  \\  hen  I  befraii  to  recover. 

After  I  had  srained  a  little  streutrth,  we  left  the  lodges  as  they 
liad  been  abaniloned  by  the  Iiuiians  in  their  fright,  all  standing, 
some  of  them  filled  with  meat,  and  other  valuable  property,  and 
started  together  for  the  villaire.  Our  trader  lived  at  some  dis- 
tance  from  the  village,  and  when  we  arrived  at  llie  |)lace  where 
llu'  roads  forked,  I  agreed  with  ()to-pun-ne-bc  that  1  would  meet 
lum  at  an  appointed  place,  on  the  day  which  he  named,  as  that 
on  which  he  would  return  from  the  village.  I  went  accordingly 
to  the  trach-r's,  and  he  to  the  Indian's  camp.  We  nu't  again  at 
the  time  and  place  agreed  on,  when  he  related  to  me,  that  he 
nent  to  the  village,  entered  the  lodge  of  one  of  the  principal 
(.aiefs,  and  sat  down.  He  had  not  been  lonif  there,  when  Waw- 
behe-nais-sa  came  in  and  sat  down  opposite  him.  Alter  rc- 
ganling  each  other  for  some  time,  Waw-bebe-nais-sa  said  to  him, 
"You,  Oto-pun-ne-be,  have  never  been  in  our  village  before,  and 
I  am  not  ignorant  of  the  occasion  which  has  brought  you  so  far 
to  see  us.  You  have  no  brothers  of  your  own,  the  Long  Knives 
having  killed  all  of  them  ;  and  you  are  now  so  foolisi)  as  to  call 
the  man  whom  I  beat  the  other  day  your  brother."  "  It  is  not 
true,"  saiil  Oto-pun-ne-be,  "  that  the  Lons)-  Knives  have  killed 
any  brother  of  mine ;  hut  if  they  had,  I  would  not  suffer  you  t't 
fall  upon  my  friend,  who  is  as  one  of  us,  and  abuse  and  injure 
him,  as  you  have  done,  without  cause  or  j)rovocation.  It  is 
true,  I  call  him  my  brother,  and  I  will  avenge  his  cause  as  if  he 
irere  such  ;  but  1  will  not  spill  blood  in  the  lodge  of  this  chief. 


•    i 


ll 


:1 


Y^^' 


;l      I 


»■■  J 


I 


{'.?}'      s 


^  f  i  w 


v' 


23W 


I'ANNER's    NAKRATIVL. 


who  has  rprpived  mo  as  a  frinid."  So  sayinj^,  be  took  Waw-bc- 
l)c-tiai.s-sa  by  tlio  haiul,  diagjrod  him  out  oC  the  loiljro,  and  was 
about  to  phjiifrc  th«'  knil'*'  to  his  heart,  wlion  tlic  chief,  who  \va« 
a  slronff  man,  eaut^ht  his  hand,  took  away  the  knife,  and  broke 
it.  In  the  senllh:  whieh  ensued,  three  or  four  men  were  at  once 
uj)oii  Ot()-[)un-ne-l)e  ;  l)ul  he  beiiiir  a  piMverful  man,  and  not  for- 
gettinjf  tlie  object  of  his  journey,  kept  fast  his  gy\\iv  upon  Wavv- 
bebe-iiais-sa,  and  (Hd  not  (juit  him  until  two  of  his  ribs  were 
broken,  and  he  was  otherwise  severely  injured.  Oto-pun-ne-he 
was  a  (piiet  man,  even  when  drunk,  aiul  if  he  ever  entered  into 
a  <iuarrel,  it  was  more  commonly,  as  in  this  case,  in  the  cause  of 
his  friend,  rather  tlian  Jiis  own. 

I  was  content  witli  (he  pimishment  that  had  been  thus  be- 
stowed upon  Waw-bebe-nais-sa,  as  I  thought  two  broken  ribs 
about  e(|ual  to  the  broken  head  he  had  given  me.  We  fe  led 
together  on  game  I  had  killed,  so  rapid  liad  been  my  recover 
and  then  returned  to  the  deserted  camp,  where  we  found  tli. 
lodges  all  standing  as  we  had  left  them.  After  about  ten  (lay^ 
more,  the  people  began  to  come  back  to  look  after  their  proper- 
ly. Oto-pun-ne-be  took  my  canoe  and  retm-ned  to  Red  River. 
Avhere  he  lived. 

All  our  peoi)le  returned,  and  removed  their  lodges  and  their 
property  to  Me-naw-zhe-tau-naung.  1  had  now  a  great  store  ot 
meat,  suflicie?»t,  as  I  knew,  to  sup|)ly  the  wants  of  my  family  for 
a  year  or  more.  Alter  making  the  best  disposition  I  could  of 
all  my  allairs,  \  took  a  small  canoe,  and  started  by  myself,  with 
the  intention  of  coming  to  Mackinac,  intending  to  go  thence  to 
the  states,  and  endeavour  to  fuid  some  of  my  relatives,  if  any  re- 
mained. 

At  Rainy  Lake,  I  fell  in  with  Mr.  (Jiasson  and  others,  in  ihe 
employ  of  the  Hudson's  Bay  Company,  who  told  me  it  would 
not  be  safe  for  me  to  suffer  myself  to  be  seen  by  any  of  the  Nortli 
West  Company's  people,  as  they  were  all  much  enraged  against 
me,  on  account  of  the  course  I  had  taken.  Nevertheless,  F 
knew  well  that  the  Hudson's  Hay  people,  having  no  occasion  to 
go  to  the  lower  end  of  Lake  Superior,  could  not  conveniently 
aid  me  themselves,  and  that  if  I  altemjited  to  go  alone,  I  must 
tmavoidably  fall  in  with  some  of  the  North  West;  I  went,  there- 
fore,  directly  to  the  trading-house  at  Rainy  Lake,  where  I  found 


I'; 


,» 


A 


^^dvssk; 


tanner's  narrative. 


239 


'aw-be- 
nd  was 
ho  was 
1  broke 
at  once, 
not  Ibr- 
n  VVaw- 
ibs  were 
nn-no-bc 
'rod  into 
cause  ol 


rs.  in  the 
e  it  would 
the  Nortli 
cd  afj;ainst 
rtliclcss,  I 
ccasion  to 
iiveniently 
ic,  I  must 
ent,  there- 
re  I  found 


my  old  trader,  Mr.  Taec.  He  was  standing  on  the  bank  when  I 
came  up  with  my  little  canoe.  He  told  »ie  to  come  into  the  house, 
and  I  followed  him  in  accordingly;  he  tlien  asked  me,  rather 
sternly,  what  I  had  come  to  him  for.  "  Why  do  you  not  go," 
said  he,  "  to  your  own  people  (»f  th(!  [fudson's  Hay  Company?" 
I  t<dd  him  I  was  now  wishing  to  go  to  the  states.  "  It  would 
have  been  well,"  he  replied,  "  had  you  gone  long  ago."  1  wait- 
ed there  twenty  days,  receiving  all  the  lime  the  kindest  treat- 
ment from  Mr.  Tace.  He  tinii  brought  me  in  his  own  canoe  to 
Fort  William,  whence  Dr.  M'Laughlin  sent  me  in  one  of  his 
boats  to  the  Saut  l)e  Ht.  Marie,  and  thence  Mr.  Krmatinger 
brought  me  to  Mackinac.  All  the  people  of  the  North  West 
Company,  whom  I  saw  on  this  journey,  treated  me  kindly,  and 
no  one  mentioned  a  word  of  my  connexion  with  the  Hudson's 
Bay. 

Major  Puthuff,  the  United  States  Indian  Agent,  at  Mackinac, 
^ve  me  a  birch  bark  canoe,  some  provisions,  and  a  letter  to  Gov. 
Cass,  at  Detroit.  My  canoe  was  laslied  to  the  side  of  the  schoon- 
er, on  board  which  I  sailed  for  Detroit,  under  the  care  of  a  gen- 
tleman, whose  name  I  do  not  recollect,  but  who,  as  I  thought, 
was  sent  by  Major  Puthuff  expressly  to  take  care  of  me  on  the 
way.  lu  live  days  we  arrived,  and  the  gentleman  tellinjj  me  to 
wait  until  he  could  go  on  shore  and  return,  he  left  me,  and  I 
heard  no  more  of  him.  Next  day  I  went  on  shore  by  myself, 
and  walking  up  into  the  street,  I  stood  for  some  time  gazing 
around  me.  At  length,  I  saw  an  Indian,  and  going  uj)  to  him, 
asked  who  he  was,  and  where  he  belonged.  He  answered  me, 
"An  Ottawwaw,  of  Saw-ge-nong."  "  Do  you  know  Gisli-kaw- 
ko?"saidI.  "He  is  my  father."  "And  where,"  said  I,  "  is 
Manito-o-geezhik,  his  father,  and  your  grand-father  ?"  "  He 
died  last  fall."  I  told  him  to  go  and  call  his  lather  to  come  and 
see  me.     He  called  him,  but  the  old  man  w  ould  not  come. 

Next  day,  as  I  was  again  staniling  in  the  street,  and  looking 
one  way  and  the  other,  I  saw  an  old  Indian,  and  ran  after  him. 
When  he  heard  me  coming,  he  turned  about,  and  after  looking 
anxiously  at  me  for  a  few  moments,  caught  me  in  his  arms.  It 
was  Gish-kaw-ko  ;  but  he  looked  very  unlike  the  young  man 
who  had  taken  me  prisoner  ho  many  years  before.  He  asked 
me,  in  a  hurried  manner,  many  questions ;  inquired  what  had 


m 


n » 


K.; 


I         *• 


W^' ^" 


r  ^r'-) 


it 


iAO 


i  ANNER  S    NAKRATIVL. 


happened  to  me,  and  where  I  had  been  since  I  left  him,  and 
many  sueh  (questions.  1  tried  to  induce  him  to  take  me  to  the 
houtie  of  Gov.  Cas;?,  but  he  appeared  afraid  to  iro.  Findinir  I 
could  not  j»revail  upon  him,  I  took  Major  PutiiuH's  letter  in  my 
hand,  and  having  h'arned  lioni  tiie  Indians  in  whicii  iiouse  iho 
governor  Hved,  I  went  toward  the  gate,  till  a  soldier,  who  was 
walking  up  and  down  before  it,  slopj)ed  nie.  I  could  not  speak 
English  so  as  to  be  at  all  understood ;  but  seeing  the  governor 
witting  in  his  porch,  1  held  up  the  letter  ti>wards  him.  He  then 
told  the  soldier  to  let  ine  pass  in.  As  soon  as  he  had  opened  tlui 
letter,  he  gave  me  his  hand,  and  having  sent  for  an  interpreter, 
he  talked  a  long  time  with  me.  (iish-kaw-ko  having  been  sent 
for,  confirnK'd  my  statement  nsptcting  the  circumstances  of  my 
caj)ture,  an<l  my  two  years  residence  with  the  Ottawwaws  oT 
Saw-ge-nong. 

The  governor  gave  me  clothing  to  the  amount  of  sixty  oi 
seventy  d»dlars  value,  and  sent  me  to  remain,  for  the  present,  at 
the  house  of  his  interpri  tcr,  mor»'  than  a  nnle  distant,  where  lie 
told  nu-  I  must  wait  till  he  should  assend)le  many  Indians  and 
white  nu^n,  to  hold  a  council  at  St.  Mary's,  on  the  Miami,  whencr 
lie  would  send  nu'  to  my  relatives  on  the  Ohio. 

1  waited  two  months  or  nn»re.  and  becoming  extremely  im- 
patient to  no  on  my  way,  I  started  with  He-nais-sa,  the  brotlici 
of  (lisli-kaw-ko,  and  eight  oilier  men,  who  were  going  to  the 
couiu'il.  I  went  without  (he  knowledge  of  (Jov.  Cass,  and  wa^ 
therefore  destitute  of  any  supply  of  provisions.  We  suflereii 
much  iVom  faliuue.  and  still  more  from  huiiirer,  particularly  aflpi 
we  jiassed  the  rajiids  of  the  Miami,  w  here  we  b'ft  our  canoe.  'I'lic 
Indians  amoni;  whom  wv  |)assed,  oflentimes  refused  ti>  give  ih 
any  thing,  thoULdi  tliev  had  plenty.  Sometimes  we  stopped  id 
nleep  near  a  white  man's  corn  lleld,  and  thouir|i  {\\c  corn  was  nnu 
lit  to  roast,  and  we  alnn>st  perishinij  willi  himiier.  wc  dared  iioi 
take  any  tiling.  One  niirlil,  w(  stopped  near  a  good  lookiiii; 
house,  where  was  a  large  and  line  corn  held.  The  Indians,  he 
ing  very  hungry,  said  to  me,  '•  Slmw-shaw-wa  ne-ha-se,  m)ii 
have  route  very  far  (o  Hee  your  relations,  now  go  in  and  sec 
whether  they  will  give  ynu  any  ihinir  to  eat."  1  vent  ami 
stood  in  tin-  door,  but  the  peo|)le  williin,  who  were  then  eaim?, 
drove  ine  away,  and  on  my  return  the  Indians  laujiheU  at  mr 


im,  and 
to  ihr 
ndiiiff  I 
r  ill  iuy 
juse  the 
x\w  was 
lot  speak 

lU-  ihou 

been  sent 
oes  of  my 
rtwaws  ol 

of  sixty  ov 

t,  where  he 
lutUans  and 
inii,  whencf 

itreiiu'ly  im- 
the  brother 
{ruing  to  thi- 
lass,  antl  wa- 
\Vi-  siilVenMl 
i.ularly  al'lfi 
cunoe.    '!'!>'' 
■tl  to  ^nve  vi-^ 
J.  stopp'"'!  In 
,)iii  was  imw 
we  .lare.l  iiol 
Tuiul  hiokiiii; 
Indians,  Ih' 
c-ha-se,    y<'»i 
o  in   and  sci 
I    vent    and 
.  llien  eating. 
bed  at  iHf 


tanner's  nakrativi;.  "^1 

Some  time  after  this,  as  wo  wore  sleepino;  one  night  in  the 
road,  some  one  came  np  on  horsel)ark,  and  asked  ns,  in  the  ()t- 
lawwuw  dialect,  who  we  were.  Oni;  ol"  the  Indians  ai;swered, 
•'  We  are  Ottawwaws  and  Ojihheways.  and  have  with  ns  one 
Long  Knil'e.  from  Red  Uiver.  wlio  was  taken  iirisoner  many 
years  ago  by  (iish-kaw-ko."  He  tohl  us.  after  he  understood 
who  we  wen-,  and  where  we  were  i;oini>,  that  his  name  was 
Ah-koo-nah-goo-zik.  "  If  you  are  brisk  iraveUers,"  said  he, 
'•  you  may  reach  my  liouse  lu  xl  (hiy  after  to-morrow,  at  noon, 
and  then  you  will  lind  plenty  to  lat.  It  is  necessary  that  I 
should  travel  on  all  night,  that  I  may  reach  home  to-morrow;" 
and  thus  he  left  us.  Next  day.  my  strength  failed  so  much  that  \. 
was  only  ahlc  to  keep  up  bv  l)i'iug  released  Iroin  my  load.  One 
look  nty  gun,  another  my  blanket,  and  we  reached  that  night  the 
forks  of  tlu'  Miami,  where  was  a  settlement  of  Indians,  and  a 
trading-house,  as  well  as  sev«'ral  lamilies  of  whiles,  I  applied 
to  the  trader,  and  stated  my  situation,  and  that  of  the  Indians 
with  me,  but  we  could  obtain  no  relief,  and  on  the  next  day  1. 
was  totally  unable  to  travel.  We  were  indebted  to  the  Indiana 
for  what  relief  we  obtained,  which  was  sullicient  to  enable  us 
the  day  after  to  reach  the  hospitable  dwelling  of  Ah-koo-nah- 
goo-zik. 

This  man  had  two  large  kettles  ol'  corn  and  venison  ready 
conked,  and  awaiting  our  arrival.  One  he  placed  before  me, 
with  some  wooilen  dishes,  and  sjxtoiis;  the  other  before  He-nais- 
sa.  After  we  had  eaten,  he  told  tis  we  had  better  remain  with, 
him  ten  or  fifteen  days,  and  refre-li  ourselves  I'rom  our  long 
jounu'v,  as  he  had  plenty  of  corn,  and  fat  venison  was  abundant, 
about  him.  I  told  him.  that  tor  my  own  part  I  had  for  many 
years  been  wishing  to  make  the  journey  I  had  now  so  nearly 
iiccoinplished,  and  that  I  was  exlrimely  impatient  to  see  v|i«'thev 
or  not  any  of  my  own  relatives  were  still  alive;  but  that  I  should 
lie  glad  to  rest  with  him  two  or  three  days,  and  afterwards  to 
Ixu'row  one  of  his  horses  to  ride  as  far  as  Kau-wis-se-no-ki-ng,  ov 
St.  Mary's.  "  I  will  tell  you,"  said  he.  After  two  or  three  days. 
IS  we  wire,  early  one  morniiit;.  makitig  up  inn-  loads  to  start,  he 
came  to  me,  leading  a  line  horse,  and  putting  the  halter  in  m>' 
liand,  lie  said,  "  I  give  you  this  for  your  jonrnoy."  I  did  not 
agnin  tell  him  I  would  leave  if  at  hau-wis-se-no-ki-ug,  as  1  hnd 

31 


J 


r^T-- 


!i'i 


JANNKR's    NARRATlVt, 


.'i     .•      \ 


11 


H 


;ilrp.'uly  toiil  him  tliis,  nnd  I  knew  tliat  in  sncii  rases  the  Indian? 
do  not  wish  to  hofir  nuirh  said.  In  two  da\s  I  arrived  at  the 
jdafc  appointed  for  the  council.  As  jet,  no  Indians  had  assein- 
l)led,  bnt  a  man  was  stationed  tliere  to  issue  provisions  to  such 
as  should  come.  I  iiad  been  hi.a  a  sliort  tinu'  at  this  place,  uduMi 
I  was  seized  with  lever  and  ague,  which,  ihou^ili  it  ditl  not  con- 
lino  mo  all   the  time,   was  yet  extremely  painful  and  dislressini;. 


After  ahont  ten  days,  a  noumit  man,  of  the  Ollawwaw 


s,  whon> 

Be-nais-sa  had  frjveri  me  to  cook  for  me,  and  assist  alxnit  me  in 
my  sickness,  »ent  across  tin?  creek,  to  a  camp  of   the  Po-ta-\va- 
lo-niics,  who  had  r«cenlly  arrived,  and  were  drinkiuff.     .\t  mid- 
night, he  was  broufjht  into  the  lodye  drunk,  and  one  of  the  men 
who  came  with  him,  said  to  me,  as  he  pushed  him  in,  "  lake  care 
of  y(nir  yomi;?  man,  he  has  been   doing  mischief."     I  immeili 
ately  called    Be-nais-sa    to    kindle  a  tire,  when    we   saw,  1)\  the 
light  of  it,  the  young  man  standing  with  his  knife   in  his  iuind, 
and  that,  together  with  his  arm,  and  great  |)art  of  his  body,  co 
vered  with  blood.     The  Indians  coul  I  not  make  him  lie  down, 
but  Avhen  I  told   him  to,  he   obeyerl   immediately,   and  I  forbad" 
llwm  to  make  any  inquiries  about  what  he  had  done,  or  take  anv 
notice  of  his  bloody  knilV.      In  the  morning,  having  slept  sound 
ly,  he  was  perfectly  unconscious  of  all  that  had  passed.      He  said 
he  believed  that  he  had  been  very  drunk,  and  as  he  was  m»w 
hungry,  he  must  hurry  and  get  ready  soiuelhing  to  eat.      lie  wa- 
astonished  ami  confounded  when  I  t<dd  him  he  had  killed  a  man 
He  remembered  only,  that  in   his  drnnlanness,  he  had  began  to 
•  rv  for  his  lather,  u  ho  had  been  killed  on  that  spot,  se^»'ral  venr- 
before,  by  white  men.     He  <x|)ressed  much  C(nH'ern,  and  weni 
lumu'diately  to  see    the   man  he   hnil   stabbed,  who  was   not\( 
dead.       NVe  learmd  from  the  Po-ta-wato-niies  that  he  had  fonnn 
(he  young  man  sleeping,  or  lying  in  a  stale  of  insensibility  from 
jnto.vication,  and   had   slabbed  him,    without  an\  words  havin;; 
bi'cn  exchanged,  anil  ap|)aienlly  without   knouii'ir   who  he  wa>. 
The  relations  of  the  wounded  man  >aid  nothing  to  him,  but  tin 
interpreter  ol  (Jov.  Cass  reproved  him  ver\  sharply. 

It  was  evident  to  all,  that  the  young  man  he  had  woundn! 
could  not  recover;  indeed,  he  was  now  nninifestly  near  his  end. 
When  our  companion  returiUMl,  we  had  made  up  a  eonsiderabli 
present,  one  giving  a  blanket,  onon  piece  ofslrouding.  soine  (>n> 


.  > 


-  *■ 


V 


XANNitR  S    NAKKAilV  i.. 


'^3 


ihiiig,  and  some  anothor.  Willi  these  lu'  imintdiaul)  retuvnod. 
and  placing  iliein  on  the  ground  beside  the  wdinided  man,  lu 
-aifl  to  llie  relativ'»?s,  who  were  standin>i,  iiiioiit,  "  My  triends,  I. 
liave,  as  }ou  see,  killed  this,  yonr  itrother;  hnl  I  know  not  wliiu 
1  did.  1  had  no  ill  will  against  him,  and  w  !icn,  a  lew  days  since, 
he  came  to  our  camp,  I  was  glad  to  see  him.  IJiil  drunkemiess 
j;iaile  ;ue  a  fool,  and  my  life  is  justly  forl'i  ited  lo  vo\i.  I  am 
poor,  and  among-  strangers;  but  some  oi'  those  who  came  from 
my  own  coimlry  with  me,  would  gladly  l)riiig  me  i)ack  lo  my 
parents;  they  have,  thereibre,  sent  me  with  this  small  present. 
.M\"  life  is  in  your  hands,  ami'  my  present  is  hel'ore  you,  take 
u  hl.h  ever  you  choose,  mv  I'riendy  will  have  no  <  ause  to  com- 
plain." He  then  sat  down  beside  the;  wounded  man,  and  st.)op- 
mg  his  head,  hid  his  eyes  with  his  hands,. and  wailed  !'(;r  them  lu 
strike.  But  the  nn)thi'rot'  the  man  he  had  wounded,  an  old  wo- 
man, came  a  little  forward,  and  said,  "  For  Knysellatul  my  chil- 
dren, r  can  answer,  that  we  u  isli  not  to  take  vour  life  ;  but  I 
laniioi  promise  lo  protect  yon  frcnn  the  re.sentnienl  of  my  Ims- 
Ijand,  who  is  now  absent;  ntverlheless,  I  will  accept  yr»nr  pre- 
sent, and  whatever  inllnence  I  njay  have  with  him,  I  shall  not 
tail  lo  use  il  in  yonr  beliidl.  [  kin)w  that  it  was  not  from  dt.- 
;>ign,  or  on  acccnmt  of  any  prex  ions  haired,  that  you  have  done 
ihis,  and  why  should  your  mother  be  made  lo  cry  as  well  as  m\- 

|i  '"     She   look    the  |)resents,   and   the  whole  affair  iieinsj  re- 
.ed  to  (lov.  Cass,  he  was  satisfied   with   the  course  liuil  iiad 
been  taken. 

On  the  folliiwing  day,  the  wounded  man  died,  and  soineof  oui 
party  assisted  the  younjr  man  who  had  killed  him,  in  making  his 
!j;rave.  When  this  was  coni|)leled,  the  govcrn(»r  gave  th«'  dead 
man  a  valuable  present  of  blank<'l-,  cloth,  •.Vc.  to  he  buried  with 
him,  accordinu  to  the  Indian  cnsttnn,  and  tinse  were  broughl 
and  heaped  up  lui  the  brink  (d'  the  urave.  Hut  the  old  wnman, 
iii>tead  of  havinj:  thcni  biuied.  pro|)osed  lo  the  v(Mmg  men  tn 
play  for  them.  As  ihe  articles  were  somewhat  numerous,  va 
lions  jrames  were  used,  as  shootinif  at  the  mark,  leajting,  wrest 
linir.  «!tc.  but  the  hamlsome'^l  piece  of  cloth  was  reserved  as  the 
l>ri/.e  for  tlu' swiftest  in  the  loot  race,  and  was  wmi  by  ihe  >oung 
man  himself  who  had  killed  the  other.  The  old  woman  imme- 
diately al'ierwards  rullnd  him  to  Iter,  and  said,  "  Vomig  man.  he 


?    1J 


\% 


ri 


P'.     (' 


r 


i  t 


>  , 


I 


1  i 


1  «l 


:iU 


iAWtU  S    NAURAXlVi.. 


•i 

-f 


who  was  my  son,  was  very  <1oar  to  me,  and  I  fear  I  shall  cry 
much  and  often  for  him.  I  wftuld  he  glad  if  you  would  consent 
to  he  my  son  in  his  stead,  to  love  me  and  tako  care  of  me  as  he 
did,  only  I  fear  my  liushaud."  The  yoiing  man,  who  was 
irrateful  to  her  for  the  anxiety  she  showed  to  save  his  life,  imme- 
diately consented  to  this  arrangement,  and  entered  heartily  upon 
it.  But  the  governor  liad  heard  that  some  of  the  friends  of  the 
deceased  were  still  determined  to  avenore  his  death,  and  he  sent 
his  interpreter  to  the  young  man,  to  direct  him,  witiiout  loss  of 
time,  to  make  his  escape,  and  fly  to  his  own  country.  He  wa^ 
unwilling  to  go,  hut  as  Be-nais-sPt  and  myself  concurred  with  the 
governor  in  his  advice,  and  assisted  him  in  his  preparations,  he 
went  off  in  the  night;  but  instead  of  going  imnunliately  home, 
«s  he  had  l)een  directrd  to  do,  he  lay  concealed  in  the  woods, 
only  a  few  hiuidred  yards  from  our  lodiic. 

Very  early  next  morning,  1  saw  two  of  tiie  friends  of  the 
young  man  that  was  killed,  coming  towards  our  lodge.  At  lirsi 
I  was  somew^iat  alarmed,  as  I  supposed  they  came  with  the  in- 
tention of  doing  violence:  init  I  soon  perceived  they  were  with- 
out arms.  They  came  in,  and  rmt  a  long  lime  silent.  At  last 
one  of  them  said,  "  Where  is  onr  hrother .'  VVc  are  sometimes 
lonely  at  home,  and  we  wish  to  talk  wilhhim."  I  told  them,  he 
luxd  but  lately  gone  out,  and  woidd  soon  return.  As  they  re- 
mained a  long  tinu\  and  insisted  on  seeing  him,  I  went  out,  with 
llie  pretence  of  seekini.'^  for  him,  hut  without  the  remotest  ex()ec- 
lation  that  he  would  he  foinid.  lie,  howiver,  had  ()l)served,  from 
jiis  hilling  place,  the  visit  of  tin-  two  young  men  to  our  lodge, 
and  not  believing  it  t(»  have  been  made  with  any  unfriendly  de- 
sign, discovered  himself  to  me,  and  we  returned  together.  The\ 
shook  hands  with  him,  and  treated  him  with  great  kindness,  and 
we  soon  afterwards  ascertained  that  all  the  reports  of  their  wish- 
ing to  kill  him  were  faNe, 


i  1 


1' 


V 


JANNKRS   NAUBATIVK, 


)i4o 


shall  cry 
cl  conseni 
me  as  he 
who  was 
f'e,  inline- 
rtily  upon 
ids  or  the; 
he  sent 
III  loss  ol' 
He  was 
with  the 
lions,  he 
I'ly  hoiTir, 
U'  woods. 

Is  of  the 
At  lirsi 
h  the  in- 
ert' witJi- 
At  las  I 
Dinetinies 
them,  he 
they  re- 
oul,  with 
si  expec- 
''t'd,  from 
ur  lodjro. 
■iidly  (le- 
r.     I'hev 
H'ss,  and 
fir  wish- 


CHAPTER   XIV.      . 

Journpy  toKfiitucky — liospitiiliticsot'  tlic  wliitcs — ri'turn  to  Dftroit — Jackkou — 
St.  Louis — (u'lieral  Clark — return  to  the  I.aUt'ol'  tin:  SVojils — Col.  Dickson — 
second  journey  to  St.  Louis,  hy  Chikiigoaiul  Fort  Clark — kindness  of  the  Fota- 
Avattoniies. 

AnouT  the  time  of  the  conclusion  of  the  council,  Gov.  Cass 
culled  ine  to  dine  w  ith  him  ;  ami  as  many  trenllemen  asked  me  to 
drink  wine  with  them,  I  was,  alter  dinner,  .scarce  able  lo  walk 
home.  A  few  days  alterwards,  the  inter|)reter  told  me  the  gover- 
nor had  a  curiosity  to  know  whether  I  had  ac(piired  the  same 
fondness  the  Indians  nsnally  have  liir  intoxicating  li([uors,  and 
whether,  when  drunk,  I  would  behave  as  they  did.  But  1  had  not 
fell  the  intluence  of  the  wme  so  miuh  as  to  fortrel  mysell,  or  be- 
come unconscious  of  my  situation,  and  I  went  immediately  to  m\ 
Iodide,  ami  lay  there       til  I  was  «'ntireiy  sober. 

Some  of  the  Potawattmnies  had  stolen  (he  Innse  that  was  lent 
ine  on  the  road  l)y  the  friendly  old  man,  culled  Ah-koo-nah-iroo- 
zik  :  but  he  was  recovered  by  the  younir  men  who  followed  :n) 
friend  Ue-nyis-sa,  and  I  rest(M-ed  him  to  the  owner,  who  was  at  the 
council,  liovernor  Cuss,  umlerstandinir  how  kind  tliis  man  had 
been  to  me,  directed  that  a  very  handsome  ami  valuabl',;  saddle 
shtndd  l)e  jrjven  him.  The  old  man  for  sonn-  time  persisted  in 
dedininir  this  present;  but  at  last,  when  prevailed  upon  to  re- 
ceive it,  he  expres>fd  much  uruiiiudc.  "This,"  said  he,  "  is  that 
which  was  told  me  by  the  old  men  who  jrave  me  instrtiction  many 
years  a^fo,  when  I  w.i  a  rhjld.  They  told  u  e  to  be  kind,  anil  to 
do  ;ro(»(l  to  all  men,  particularly  to  the  strauner  who  should  cinnc 
from  a  distant  country,  and  to  alt  who  were  destitute  and  afllifted  ; 
saying,  if  1  did  so,  the  (Jreat  Spirit  woidd  also  remember  me,  to 
do  good  to  me,  and  reward  me  for  what  I  had  done.  Now,  thougit 
I  have  d(me  dO  little  for  this  man,  how  amply  and  honourably  am 
I  rewarded !"    lie  would  ]iave  (jersiiadvd  me  to  take  his  horse. 


Ui 


S     i 


•^0 


lANNERri    NAKKATIVL:. 


W  J 


kt. 


i¥ 


fr-, 


Uf     t 


'i\ 


»?, 


i  k 


I 


as  he  said  he  Iiad  more,  ami  the  saddle  was  more  valiiai)ie  tliiui 
llic  horse  he  hail  lent  me;  and  ihoujfh  I  deeliiied  his  oilir,  siiH 
he  insisted  upon  it,  until  I  eonsented  that  he  should  cunsiiUr  it 
as  heliniiiinsr  to  me.  and  should  lake  oare  of  it  (uitil  I  relurnci 
and  ealled  for  it.  Here  tlie  governor  jiave  me  -roods  to  the  anioim! 
of  one  hundred  and  tueiitv  dollars  value,  and  as  I  had  slili  a  nu: 
siderahle  joiu'tiey  t»  make,  I  purchased  a  horse  for  eighty  doilut<. 
for  which  f  jrave  a  |);irl  of  the  "oods  I  had  received.  There  wevi- 
al  the  council,  anumo-  others,  two  men  from  Kciitncky,  who  Knev, 
something'  of  my  rclati>n>,  one  of  tlieni  iiaviui;  livxl  Iroinuchiiil 
in  'he  family  of  one  of  my  sisters. 

Willi  these  luo  men  i  started,  thouoli  my  healtii  wa--'  stiil  verv 
poor.     In  a  few  days  [  had  hc^come  so  much  worse,  that  I  eouii' 
)iot  sit  on  my  hmv-^e,  and  they  concluded  to  purcha-c  a  skill",  an.', 
one  (d'theni  to  take  me  down  hy  watt=r,  while  llie  oilier  went  wiih 
the  horses,  by  tlu"  usual   roiitt .      In  that  pari  of  the  IW'j  Miiun^ 
are  many  mill-dam<,  ami  oilier  (disiruciions.  u  liicli  rendered  i-ve:i 
this  method,  not  only  slow  and  laliorii.u-;,  jjui  extremely  disire 
injjlo  me,  on  account  ol  niy  ill  iu'altii.      At  last  I  \\.\:   ;educed  ;. 
such  a  slate  of  weakn<'ss,  as   to   lie  (juite  unablr  to  nujve,  and   ! 
stopped  at   the   hou^-e  ol'a  poor   man,  who  lived   on  the  hank  oi 
the  riv  er,  and  as  he  seemed  srreatly  to  pity  me,  and  was  disposijd 
lo  do  all  in  his  power  lor  my  ndicl".  I  determined  to  remain  will; 
him,  the  man  with  whom  I  had  travelled  thus  far,  nnd^m!.'-  me  im 
dersland  that  he  would  iroto  the  Ohio,  ami  either  come  hack  him 
self,  or  send  some  one  after  me. 

This  man  with  whom  I  st>>[»f)ed,  tould  speak  a  li  w  word-,  i' 
Otlaw  waw.  and  he  diil  every  thinix  in  his  power  to  rcmler  m* 
sitnati(m  comt'orlaide,  until  m\  nephew,  «liowas  the  person  si-n' 
))y  mv  iVi'Mids  in  Kentucky,  came  for  nn-.  I>y  him  I  iu'ard  oi 
the  death  ot' my  father,  ani  also  scmie  particulars  of  my  sur\  i\  in;; 
relatives.  I i.  fore  I  saw  (iish-kau-ko,  at  Detroit,  1  had  alwav- 
supposed  thil  the  <ireater  part,  if  not  all  of  m\  liilher's  ('imilv. 
had  lieen  nnu'dered  hy  Manito-o-ireezhik  and  his  part\,lhe  >ear 
subsetiueni  to  my  caplme. 

Our  journey  was  very  tedious  and  dillicult  to  Cincinnati,  wlierr 
we  rested  u  little.  Theiwe  we  descended  the  Ohio  in  a  skill".  My 
fever  conlimied  to  return  daily,  and  when  the  chill  connnenced, 
we  wpre  comptlled  to  .stop  for  some  tiinr^  st»  that  our  j)rouire«-« 


I    !- 


il 


1 1  ^. 


-.^^* 


««■ 


i  ANMIl  .;    NAKK.Vl  M  ;.. 


:W7 


IMC  fill- 

cr  III! 
-on  .scir 
;ir(i  (It 
[•\  iviiiH 
alv\,i\  ^ 
limils. 
I'   year 

« li«  rr 
li:    My 
need, 
rotfrp*? 


uan  not  rai»i(i.  VVc  won-  accoinpaniiMl  by  mw  man,  wlio  assistcil 
iny  nophow  to  put  mo  in  and  take  mo  oiit  of  ihi-  skill,  for  I  \vai« 
now  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton,  and  had  n(jl  stivuirih  cnoujih  to 
valk  or  stand  by  myself. 

Ah  the  iii;rlit  was  eoniinar  on,  after  a  very  dark  and  cloudy  day. 
we  arrived  at  a  handsonn'  farm,  where  was  a  kir^re  and  rather 
•rooil  htoking  house.  It  was  (initedark  when  we  were  reat'.v  to 
Iciive  (he  skill";  they  dieii  raised  me  by  the  arms,  and  led,  or  ra- 
ther •■arried  me  to  the  house.  My  nephew  told  l!ie  man  our 
-ituation,  and  stated  that  I  was  so  unwell,  it  would  be  extremch 
.lilllrult,  and  must  even  endanij;er  mv  lil"e,  if  we  attempted  to  oo 
farther;  but  ho  told  us  we  eould  wd  stay  at  iiis  bouse  all  niylit; 
iind  whin  my  nephew  persisted  in  bis  request,  he  drove  us 
'ouiihly  and  vi<>''    t!  (d"  the  bouse.    The  ni    ■     '    d  oow  eon- 

Milerably  advai.i , ..,  an.  .e  di-^tanee  to  the  ue^i  bouse  was  a 
mile  and  an  half;  but  as  it  stood  ba<'k  front  the  river,  we  could 
not.  i^o  to  it  in  our  skill".  'I'hey  aeeordinoly  supported  nu'  lie- 
iween  ihrMU,  and  we  went  on.  It  was  pudtably  after  midniirhl 
when  we  arrived  at  a  large  brick  house;  the  j)eoji!e  witl'.iu  were 
ill  ill  bed,  aiul  all  the  windows  wiTe  dark,  but  my  nephew  knocked 
It  the  door,  and  after  a  little  time  a  man  came  out.  When  he  saw 
me  be  took  hold  of  me,  and  assisted  me  to  i>o  in;  then  be  called 
\ip  hi-,  wife  and  dauifhter-',  and  gave  some  supper  to  my  eonijia- 
iiioris.  For  me  he  prepired  some  medicine,  and  then  made  me  go 
to  bed,  where  [  slept  very  i|uietly  until  late  in  the  morning.  At 
this  house  I  reimiiued  nearly  all  the  next  day,  and  was  treated 
widi  the  utmost  kindness.  From  this  time  I  began  to  gel  a  little 
iiclter,  and  withotit  mutdi  more  difliculty.  I  rcaidied  the  plac«^ 
nhere  my  -;isti>r's  (hildren  were  living.  I  staid  one  lugbt  at  the 
house  of  one  of  my  mphews,  who-e  name  was  .lohn  ;  then  [  went 
to  the  house  of  another  brother,  where  I  lay  sick  about  a  snontli. 

A  Ktter  was  m»w  received,  which  they  nuidc  me  umlers'aml 
was  for  me,  but  though  they  rea  1  it  to  me  rejteatediv,  I  could  not 
cumprfdiend  a  siniile  word  of  the  contents.  All  the  time  since- 
my  arrival  here,  I  had  lain  sick,  and  no  one  being  tor  any  C(m- 
siderable  part  of  the  time  witii  me,  i  had  not  learne  either  to 
understand,  or  make  inys(  If  understood  ;  but  as  I  was  now  some 
better,  an  '  able  (d'len  to  walk  about,  when  a  second  letter  came, 
I  could  imderslaud  from  it,  thut  my  brotlier  Edward,  whose  name 


^■1  < 

iwnH 

Kll: 

Iffl 

H  w  ) 

fiH 

1 

m 

1 

11 

W         ! 


/, 


•f^i 


'iAH 


tanner's    NARRA'iln;. 


i-       i 


r-i  '^ 


I  had  never  forgotten,  had  gone  to  Red  River  to  search  lor  me. 
Also,  that  one  of  my  uncles,  who  lived  one  hundred  miles  distant, 
had  sent  for  me  to  come  to  him. 

My  greatest  anxiety  was  now  on  account  of  my  brother  Ed- 
ward,  and  I  immediately  called  for  my  horse,  intending  to  return 
towards  Red  River  and  search  for  him.  Twenty  or  thirty  of  tin: 
neighhuurs  asseml)le(l  around  me  when  they  heard  that  1  wished 
to  go  back,  and  I  could  comprehend  that  they  wished  to  dissimdo 
me  from  going.  But  when  they  found  I  was  obstinate,  they  gave 
me  each  a  little  money  :  some  one  shilling,  some  two  sliilliiig:>, 
and  others  larger  sums,  and  I  got  upon  my  horse  and  started.  I 
had  rode  about  ten  miles,  when  fatigue  and  sickness  overcame 
me,  and  I  was  compelled  to  stop  at  the  house  of  a  man,  whose 
Jiame,  as  f  afterwards  learned,  was  Morgan.  Here  I  staid  four 
days,  and  when  I  again  called  for  my  horse,  the  neighbours,  as 
before,  began  to  gather  round  me,  and  each  to  give  me  some- 
thing. One  gave  me  some  bread  in  a  bag,  another  tied  a  youii" 
pig  behind  my  saddle,  and  among  them  all,  tliey  furnished  nw 
with  a  good  outtit  of  ])rovisions,  and  some  money.  I  wished  tii 
return  to  Detroit;  but  as  I  was  still  very  weak,  Mr.  Morgan  uc- 
com|)anied  me  to  (Jincinnati.  1  had  found  that  it  made  me  sick 
to  sleep  in  a  house,  aiul  on  this  journey  I  constantly  refused  to  do 
so.  Mr.  Morgan  would  sleep  in  the  houses  where  we  stopped  at 
night,  but  I  chose  a  siood  place  outside,  where  I  lay  down  and 
slept,  and  I  found  the  advantage  of  doing  so,  by  the  partial  re- 
covery of  my  health.  After  Mr.  Morgan  returned  from  Cincin- 
'"nati,  I  travelled  on  alone,  and  was  before  long  destitute  of  pro- 
visions. About  this  time,  an  old  man  who  was  standing  by  tlir 
door  of  his  house,  when  lie  saw  me,  called  out  stop  !  come  !  I 
could  understand  no  more  than  these  two  words,  but  I  knew  t'rom 
the  expression  of  his  countenance,  and  his  manner,  that  his  design 
was  friendly,  and  accordinsily  went  into  his  yard.  He  took  uiv 
horse  and  jjave  him  |)lenty  of  corn,  and  I  accompanied  him  into 
the  house,  where,  tlioui>li  they  placed  lood  before  me,  I  could  not 
eat.  Seeing  this,  he  gave  me  some  nuts,  a  few  of  which  I  ate. 
When  he  saw  that  my  horse  had  eaten,  and  I  was  impatient  to 
start,  he  put  on  the  saddle,  and  brought  the  horse.  I  oll'ered  him 
money,  but  he  would  not  take  it. 

\  «lay  or  two  afterwards.  1  stopped  at  a  house  witere  I  saw  !\ 


ij.       J 


,» 


^^M 


-t 


f ANNEU  d    NAKKATlVJc. 


-Mit 


for  ine. 

j  distant, 

)thov  Ed- 
to  rctdru 
rty  of  the 
I  wished 
D  cUrfsvuuhi 
they  <fave 
I  shillings 
itartod.     I. 
overcame 
lan,  whoso 
staid  four 
jhbours,  as 
me  somo- 
,ed  a  young 
rnislujd  nie 
I  wished  to 
Morgan  :u',- 
ade  me  sick 
•efiiriod  to  do 
c  stoppPtl  at 
,y  down  ami 
0  partial  rc- 
roni  Cincin- 
Uite  of  pro- 
iding-  by  tlir 
\  come '.     1 
I  knew  from 
ut  hisilesiirn 
Ic  took  my 
it-il  him  into 
i,  I  could  not 
Iwhifh  I  ate. 
limpatient  to 
:  offered  him 

kiere  I  saw  ;\ 


oveat  quantity  of  corn  lying  in  the  yard.  My  hovHe  was  very- 
hungry,  therefore  I  got  down,  and  taking  a  dollar  out  of  my 
pocket,  I  handed  it  to  the  man  who  stood  there,  and  then  I 
counted  ten  ears  of  corn,  and  took  them  and  laid  them  before  my 
liorse.  I  could  not  make  the  pt^ople  comprehend  that  I  was  hun- 
gry ;  at  least  they  seemed  determined  not  to  understand  me.  I 
went  into  the  house,  and  the  woman  looked  displeased ;  but  see- 
ing there  part  of  a  loaf  of  corn  bread,  I  pointed  first  to  it,  next  to 
my  moutli ;  but  as  she  appeared  ni)t  to  understand  my  meaning, 
I  took  it  in  my  liand  and  raised  it  to  my  mouth,  as  if  I  would  eat 
it.  Seeing  tliis,  she  called  to  the  man  outside,  and  he  coming  in, 
took  the  bread  from  me,  pushed  me  violently  out  of  the  house, 
then  went  and  took  the  corn  from  my  horse,  and  motioned  to  me  to 
be  gone.  I  came  next  to  a  large  brick  house,  and  hoping  I  might 
meet  gentler  treatment,  I  determined  to  try  here.  But  as  I  was 
riding  up,  a  very  fat  man  came  out  and  spoke  to  me  in  a  loud 
and  harsh  tone  of  voice.  Though  I  could  not  understand  his 
words,  his  meaning,  which  I  thought  was  very  evident,  was,  as  I 
supposed,  to  forbid  my  entering  the  yard.  I  was  wilhng  to  pass 
on,  and  was  about  to  do  so,  when  he  ran  out  and  caught  my 
horse  by  the  bridle.  He  said  much  to  me,  of  which  I  under* 
stood  little  or  nothing.  I  thought  I  could  comprehend  that  he 
was  cursing  me  for  an  Indian.  He  took  hold  of  my  gun,  and 
tried  to  wrench  it  out  of  my  hand.  I  c  since  understood  that 
lie  kept  a  tavern,  and  was  a  magistrate ;  but  at  that  time  I  was 
sick,  and  hungry,  and  irritable,  and  when  I  found  that  he  wanted 
to  take  my  gun  from  me,  I  became  angry ;  and  having  in  my 
hand  a  hickory  stick,  about  as  large  as  my  thumb,  and  three  or 
lb\jr  feet  long,  I  stiuck  him  over  the  head  with  it,  so  hearty  a 
blow,  that  he  immediately  ([uitted  his  hold  on  my  gun,  and  1  rode 
off.  Two  young  men,  whose  horses  were  standing  by  this  house, 
and  wh(>  appeared  to  me  to  be  travellers,  soon  overtook  me,  and 
we  rode  on  together. 

This  journey  was  a  painful  and  unpleasant  one  to  me.  I 
travelled  on,  from  day  to  day,  weak,  dispirited,  and  alone,  meet- 
ing with  little  sympathy  or  attention  from  the  people  among 
whom  1  passed,  often  suffering  from  hui  ger  and  from  sickness. 
I  was  willing  to  sleej)  in  the  woods,  as  1  constantly  did ;  but  it 
was  not  easy  to  kill  any  game,  nor  did  the  state  of  my  health  al> 

33 


'\ 


0 


--T'- 


,♦ 


vc 


1250 


'J'AN^■ER^    NARKATIVt, 


^..■i.' 


t 


1 1 


low  me  to  go  far  from  the  road  to  unt,  I  had  ascended  nearly 
to  the  head  ol"  tlie  Big  Miami,  when  ^'  "'fht,  after  having  of- 
fered a  dollar  to  a  fanner,  and  been  drivv  way  without  refresh- 
ment for  myself  or  my  horse,  I  lay  dowi  in  the  woods  near  by, 
and  after  I  supposed  them  to  be  asleep,  1  took  as  much  corn  as 
was  sufhcicnt  to  feed  my  horse.  I  iiad,  some  time  in  the  course 
of  the  preceding  day,  bought  a  chicken  for  twenty-live  cenis,  a 
part  of  which  1  now  ate,  and  llic  next  day  1  began  to  feel  a  little 
stronger-  I  had  now  arrived  where  the  intervals  between  the 
settlements  were  very  wide,  and  seeing  a  gang  of  hugs  in  the 
voods,  I  shot  one,  skinned  him,  and  hung  the  meat  on  my  sad- 
dle, so  that  I  was,  for  some  time,  well  supplied  with  provisions, 
^t  the  forks  of  the  Miami  of  Lake  Erie,  was  a  trader  with  whom 
I  was  well  acquainted,  and  who  spoke  Ottawwaw  as  well  as  I 
did ;  but  when  I  asktvl  him  for  something  for  my  horse,  he  told 
me  to  begone,  as  he  would  give  me  nothing,  though  he  offered  to 
sell  me  some  corn  for  my  bear  meat,  as  he  called  the  pork  I  had 
hanging  at  my  saddle ;  but  I  disliked  him,  and  therefore  went 
across  the  river  to  sleep  in  the  woods. 

This  night  I  was  again  taken  very  sick,  and  when  in  tin- 
morning  I  found  that  my  horse  had  escaped  and  gone  back,  I 
was  scarce  able  to  follow  him.  When  1  arriveil  at  the  river  op- 
posite the  trader's  house,  I  saw  the  horse  standing  on  the  ollur 
side,  and  calling  to  the  trader,  I  asked  him  to  send  or  bring  thi 
Jiorse  over  to  me,  as  I  was  sick.  When  he  replied  that  he  would 
not,  I  asked  him  to  bring  me  a  canoe,  as  being  sick  myself,  1  did 
not  wish  to  go  into  the  water  ;  but  this  In;  refused  to  do,  and  I 
was  compelled  to  swim  across.  I  took  my  horse  and  returned 
to  my  camp,  but  was  too  sick  to  travel  forther  that  day. 

On  the  day  after  I  resumed  my  journey,  and  had  the  good 
fortune  to  come  to  a  house  where  the  woman  treated  me  kindly. 
She  led  my  horse,  and  then  ortired  me  some  salt  pork  ;  but  as  I 
could  not  eat  this,  I  returned  it  to  her.  Then  shi-  brought  iiic 
some  fresh  venison,  and  I  took  a  shoulder  of  it.  She  made 
signs  to  me  to  sit  down  in  the  house ;  but  as  I  preferred  the 
woods,  I  declined  her  offer,  and  selected  near  by  a  pleasant 
place  to  encamp,  and  there  cooked  the  meat  she  had  given  inc. 
Before  my  supper  was  cooked,  she  sent  a  little  boy  to  bring  mf 
rfome  bread,  and  .«onie  fresh  and  sweet  butter. 


I:! 


warn 


hen  iu  the 
one  back,  I 
he  river  oy- 
>n  the  other 
or  bring  th*^ 
lat  he  would 
my  self,  I  JW 
to  (h),  ii'"^  ^ 
anil  returned 

(lay. 

lail  the  good 
,\  lue  kiuilly. 
,vk  ;  b"t  as  I 
u.  V>rought  nic 
It.     She  madd 
Ipreterred  the 
ly  a   pleasant 
|iad  given  inc. 
,y  to  bring  taf 


banner's  narbative, 

Next  day  my  route  was  principally  out  of  settlements.  At 
rhe  villafre  of  Ah-koo-nah-goo-zik,,  [  would  not  stop,  as  I  was  aJ- 
peady  under  sufficient  obligation  to  him,  and  I  thought  he  would 
again  urge  me  to  take  his  horse.  I  had  arrived  within  about  one 
hundred  ndles  of  Detroit,  wlien  I  was  airaiii  taken  very  sick. 
Feeling  wholly  unabh*  to  travel,  I  (h'termined  to  take  some 
euietic  tartar,  whieb  1  had  carried  for  a  long  time  about  me, 
having  received  it  from  Dr.  M'Liughliii,  at  Rainy  Lake.  Soon 
after  I  had  taken  it,  rain  begaii  to  fall,  and  as  the  weather  was 
now  somewhat  cold,  and  1  was  unable  to  avoid  getting  wet,  the 
cramp  atfected  me  very  violently.  After  the  rain  had  ceased, 
the  creek  near  which  I  was  encamped  froze  over,  but  as  1  was 
suffering  >mder  a  most  violent  fever,  I  broke  the  ice,  and  plunged 
nn  self  all  over  into  the  water,  (n  this  situation  I  remained  for 
some  time,  totally  unable  to  travel,  and  almost  without  a  hope 
of  recovering.  Two  men  passed  me  with  the  nuiih  one  of  whom 
could  speak  a  little  Indian ;  but  they  said  they  coulil  do  nothing 
for  me,  as  they  were  com[)elled  to  proceed  on  their  journey  with- 
out loss  of  time. 

But  at  length,  1  was  a^rain  aide  to  travel,  ami  resumed  my 
journey.  [  was  two  days*  journey  from  Detroit,  when  I  met  a 
man  in  the  road,  with  a  Sioux  pipe  in  his  hand  whose  strong  rc- 
scmblace  to  my  father  inmc  iliately  arrested  my  attention.  I  en- 
deavoured to  make  him  stop  and  take  notice  of  me,  but  he  <niVe 
)ne  a  hasty  look,  aiul  passed  on.  When  1  arrived,  two  days  af- 
terwards, at  Detroit,  I  learned  that  this  man  was,  as  I  supposed, 
uiy  brother ;  but  the  governor  would  not  allow  mc  to  return  after 
him.  as  he  knew  that  my  havinjj  passed  towards  Detroit  would 
be  known  at  the  Indian  traders'  houses  on  the  way,  and  that  my 
brother,  who  would  incniireat  all  of  them,  would  very  soon  hear 
of  me,  and  return.  His  opinion  appeared  to  have  been  well 
foimded,  for  about  three  days  afterwards  my  brother  arrived. 
He  held  me  a  lonsj  time  in  his  arms  ;  but  on  account  of  my  igno- 
rance of  the  Rnglish  lanjruaire,  we  were  unable  lo  speak  to  each 
other,  except  throuirh  an  interpreter.  He  next  cut  off  my  long 
hair,  on  which,  till  this  time,  I  had  worn  strings  of  broaches,  in 
the  manner  of  the  Indians.  We  visited  (Jov.  Cass  together,  and 
he  expressed  much  satisfaction  at  my  having  laid  aside  the  In- 
dinn  costume.     But  the  dress  of  a  white  man  was  extremely  on- 


.ff 


1;,^ 


1vM«'i''^.'f 


TANNKR  3    NARRATIVE. 


i'omfortable  to  nic,  so  that  I  was,  from  time  to  time,  compelled  to 
resume  my  old  dress  for  the  sake  of  convenience. 

I  endeavoured  to  persuade  my  brother,  with  whom  I  still  con- 
versed through  an  interpreter,  to  accompany  me  to  my  residence 
at  the  Laiie  of  tlie  Woods ;  but  to  this  he  would  by  no  means 
consent,  insisliiiji  that  1  must  ^o  with  him  to  his  house,  beyond 
the  Mississippi,  and  we  set  oft'  together  accordingly.  From  the 
military  connnandant  at  Fort  Wayne,  we  received  much  friendly 
attention,  and  our  journey  was,  in  the  main,  a  pleasant  one.  For- 
ty days  brought  us  to  the  Mississij)pi,  iifteen  miles  above  New 
Madrid,  wliere  my  brother  resiiled.  Another  of  my  brother's 
lived  near  by,  and  they  botli  accompanied  me  to  Jackson,  fifteen 
miles  from  Cape  (iirardeau,  where  two  of  my  sisters  were  living, 
From  this  place  we  started,  six  or  seven  in  number,  to  go  in 
Kentucky;  and  crossing  the  Mississippi,  a  little  above  Cape  Gi- 
rardeau, we  went  by  the  way  of  (iolcouda,  on  the  Ohio,  to  Ken- 
tucky, where  many  of  my  relatives  lived,  not  far  from  the  small 
villages  called  Salem  and  Princeton. 

?Iy  sister  Lucy  had,  the  night  before  my  arrival,  dreamed  that 
-she  saw  me  coming  thnnigh  the  corn  field  thpt  surrounded  her 
house.  She  had  ten  children.  Relatives,  friends,  and  neigli- 
Jjours,  crowded  around  to  witness  my  meeting  with  my  sister.^, 
and  though  we  could  converse  together  but  little,  they,  and 
most  of  those  who  assembled  about  us,  shed  many  tears.  On 
the  Sabbath  day  after  my  arrival,  greater  numbers  than  usual 
came  to  tny  sister's  house,  and  divine  worship  was  performed 
there.  My  brother-in-law,  Jeremiah  Rukker,  entleavoured  to 
find  in  my  father's  will  some  provision  for  me.  He  took  me  to 
the  court  at  Princeton,  and  showed  me  to  the  peo|)le  there  ;  but 
nothing  could  be  accomplished.  My  step-mother,  who  lived 
near  by.  gave  me  one  hundred  and  thirty-seven  dollars. 

I  went,  accompanied  by  seven  of  my  relatives,  some  men. 
some  women,  to  Scottsville,  where  I  had  an  uncle,  who  had  sent 
for  me.  Here  the  people  collected  and  gave  me  one  hundred 
dollars,  and  on  my  return.  Col.  Kwing,  of  Hopkinsviile,  raised, 
in  about  one  hour  that  I  remained  with  him,  one  hundred  dollars 
more,  which  he  gave  me.  This  gentleman  showed  me  very  dis- 
tinguished attention  and  kindness,  and  remains,  to  this  day.  a 
•^ordikl  and  active  friend  to  mc. 


mm 


lAXXEP.  i    NAURATIVE, 


iJ6:{ 


pelleil  Id 

still  con- 
residence 
10  means 
3,  beyond 
From  the 
h  friendly 
one.  For- 
bore New 
f  brother's 
son,  fifteen 
irere  living. 
r,   to  go  to 
re  Cape  Gi- 
lio,  to  Ken- 
m  the  small 

[reamed  that 
rounded  her 
,  and  nei},di- 
^   my  sister-. 
they,  and 
tears.     On 
than  usual 
performed 
iivoured   to 
took  me  to 
>  there;  but 
who  lived 

ars. 

some  men, 

who  had  sent 

one  hundred 

sville,  raised, 

indred  dollars 

me  very  dis- 

Ito  this  day.  ^ 


From  llopliinsville  I  returned  to  the  house  of  my  step-mother, 
where  I  nuule  my  preparations  to  jio  to  tlie  Lake  of  llie  Woods. 
Part  of  my  relatives,  who  had  accompanied  me  from  beyond  the 
Mississippi,  had  returned  to  their  own  homes ;  but  my  brother 
and  his  wife  stayed  to  travel  with  me.  From  my  brother  F.d- 
wurd's  house,  near  New  Madrid,  1  went  aj^ain  to  Jaikson,  where 
I  was  taken  sick.  My  stock  of  money  had  now  increased, 
through  the  voluntary  dDiialions  of  those  friendly  and  charitable 
people  anions  whom  I  had  passed,  to  live  hundred  thdlars,  and, 
this  being  all  in  silver,  world,  my  brotlier  tliought,  be  the  means 
of  exposing  me  to  danger,  and  l)ringinir  me  into  didiculty,  should 
I  travel  by  myself;  he,  therefore,  rel'used  to  leave  me. 

From  Jackson  we  went  together  to  St.  Louis,  where  we  saw 
Gov.  Clark,  who  had  already  given  much  assistance  to  niy  brother 
in  his  journeys  in  search  of  mv.  lie  received  us  with  grent  kind- 
ness, and  odi-red  us  whatever  fissistance  we  niiiiht  think  neces- 
sary III  accomplishing  the  ohject  1  now  had  in  cw,  which  was, 
1o  bring  my  family  from  the  Indian  country.  My  brother  wished 
to  accompany  me,  and  to  take  a  considerable  number  of  men.  lo 
:iid,  if  it  shoidd  l)e  necessary,  in  taking  my  children  froi,  the 
Indians;  but  I  went  one  day  to  (Jov.  Clark,  by  myself,  and  told 
him  he  must  not  listen  to  my  brother,  who  knew  little  of  the 
country  I  was  going  to  visit,  or  of  wliat  was  needful  to  mv  suc- 
cess in  the  altem|)t  to  bring  out  my  family.  In  truth,  I  :ul  lot 
wish  my  brother,  or  any  other  white  man,  to  accompany  n.e,  as  f 
knew  he  could  not  submit  to  all  the  hardships  of  the  journey, 
and  live  as  I  should  be  compelled  to  live,  in  an  Indian  lodge,  all 
winter.  Furthermore,  I  was  aware  that  he  would  be  rather  an 
incumbrance  than  any  help  to  me.  tiov.  Clark  wished  tf  send 
nie  to  tlie  Lake  of  the  Woods  by  way  of  the  Upper  Mishissippi; 
but  I  was  not  willing  to  go  that  way,  on  account  of  the  Kioux, 
through  whose  country  I  must  pass.  He  gave  me  a  Mackinac 
boat,  large  enough  to  carry  sixty  men,  with  a  sufficient  crew, 
three  barrels  of  flour,  two  of  hard  bread,  guns,  tents,  axes,  &c. 
&c.  Having  prevailed  on  my  brother  to  refrn,  I  set  oil".  The 
current  of  the  Mississippi,  below  the  Misaonn  vioon  convinced 
me  that  my  larue  and  heavy  boat  was  not  well  adaj)ted  to  the 
nature  of  my  undertaking,   and  at  Portag«^  De  Sioux  1  left  if. 


U' 


*^  i 


..«  A   ■■rtf^-r. 


'm .. 


.'1,1  >■    ,.t.i 


354 


TANNER  S    NARRATlVt. 


^       i 


•M    1 


1  ' 

mi"  II Mil  '•! 


V  ■    .' ;  / 


From  tfiis  place  I  procrodtMl  in  a  winall  ranor,  with  two  men,  fy 
tlu;  licad  of  the  Illinois  Hivcr,  llicnro  to  ("liikatio. 

I  had  a  letter  Croin  («ov.  Clark  to  Mr.  M'Kenzie,  the  Indian 
sment  at  ilial  {»laee,  and  as  lliere  was  no  vessid  ahont  to  sail  Hir 
Maekinac,  lie  lilted  onl  a  hark  cantu',  with  a  crew  of  Indians,  tci 
lak«i  nu'  on  n\y  jonrney  ;  hut  the  Indians  st()|)ped  lo  drink  seve- 
ral days,  anil,  in  (lie  niean  lime,  a  vessel  arrived,  in  whieli  [ 
Hailed  oti  her  return.  I  had  waited  ten  days  at  Mackinac,  when 
C'a|)t.  Kn;i|)|>,  <>['  the  re\enue  cutler,  ollered  nu'  a  |)iissaire  to 
Driiininoiiii'r-  Island.  Here  Dr.  Mil(iiell,  and  the  Indian  aucni. 
<!ol.  Aiuleisoii,  treated  me  in  a  \eiy  Iriendly  manner,  until  the 
hUler  liMil  an  i>|)|MtrlMnity  to  send  me  to  the  Saiit  Dv  Si.  Mario. 

At  the  Sam  I  remained  iwo  <n'  three  months,  as  (;<d.  Dickson. 
M'ho  was  there,  would  not  alliivv  me  to  <ro  up  Lake  Superior  in 
(he  iNorth  West  (*i)nipan\'s  vessel,  which  went  and  returned 
three  linns  while  I  \\a~  iletaine<l  uaitintr  lor  him.  At  last.  In 
\\as  ready  to  start,  and  I  went  on  hoard  his  hnat.  We  w«'re  no 
so(mer  out  l'i<nn  shore,  than  he  handed  me  an  oar.  and  thon:ili 
my  health  was  very  poor,  ho  loinpelled  me  to  row  as  lonu  a-:  I 
was  aide  to  set  up.  Iiein&)  at  last  ipnte  disahled,  ho  lot't  me  on 
sliore,  at  a  spot  twenty  miles  ahove  l'\)rl  William,  where  wi 
tbmid  Mr.  (iiarson,  who  was  there  to  take  care  ol"  some  propert} 
tor  the  Hudson's  l<;i\  pei  pie.  I  was  much  dissatisli<<d  with  tin 
treatment  I  ri'c<ixed  Iroin  ('(d.  Dicksmi.  and  at  partiiiir  I  loM 
liim,  that  notwitlisiandinL!  lie  leCt  mo  so  liir  (Vom  (he  end  of  iii\ 
joiirnev,  I  would  still  reach  Me-naw-/he-Iau-naun!i  helore  him. 
.\ll  mv  liairiiajre  I  led  in  the  care  o(  Mr.  tiiarsim,  and  wt'n(  on  in 
a  small  (  anoe.  w  illi  one  old  Kietichman,  w  Imm  I  hired,  and  havii 
^ood  link  to  cross  thr  lake,  I  ,irri\ed  helore  him. 

Mv  tiimily  were  all  well.  Next  day,  -ome  one  tuld  ine  i|i;ii 
the  red  heailed  t'.n!.'li-hmau.  as  thev  called  Col.  Dickson,  was 
eoiiiiu!.'  up  to  my  lodi<o.  I  (old  him,  withoiil  iroinu  ou(,  (ha(  In 
need  not  <'oiiie  in.  "  Von  liinl  me  here  in  my  loiliie."  said  i, 
"tliouuh  \  oil  ahandoned  me  on  (he  lake  shore,  when  verv  fir  (Vom 
my  home,  or  fnnn  any  place  wliere  I  coiild  have  oxpeelodio  (InrI 
help;  hilt  my  lodifo  in  not  lit  for  such  uh  you,  tlioreforo  I  lio|ie 
yon  will  n  i(  ccnie  in."  f  knew  lie  wished  (o  nsk  mo  for  some 
thinv;  tu  ohI,  hut  I  wax  deicniiinrd  not  to  t*oo  him.  or  i;ivc  him 


'1 


V  V 


IAN'VER':*   naukativl. 


255 


men,  Cu 

10  liitVum 
I  sail  li)r 
idians,  t(i 
rink  si-vc- 
i  \vhi<l>  I 

)iissatft'  to 
liaii  airi'Ul. 
I-.  uniil  llic 
1.  Mario. 
,1.  DicUsiiii. 
Sii|H'ri<)r  ill 
„|   ifiunnil 

At  la^«'  •" 
\Vr  wen-  iiu 

anil  lli">m'i 
as  lonif  "■* ' 
„.  lot!  »»••  oil 
I.  wlicri'  \\i 
|.,„o  |)roi>fily 

hmI  w  i»l>  >1" 
.,,.,, im  I  t"lil 
,.   , ml  of  iin 

1,1  r.irr  liiiii. 

,1  Willi  on  ill 
(l.antllmviii.; 

inld  mt'  'li:" 
>i(|,-<.ni,   \v;i« 

L  ,.ul.  tliK'  '" 
L,.."  saiil  I. 
Imiv  Oh-  iV.im 
|„.,.|,.<h.>  liii'l 
111.  ire  1  li"l"' 
line  f'»'"  '«'i'"' 
or  i{ivc  him 


any  thing.  He  left  our  villatre,  ami  went  by  tlu-  Iniliaiis'  road  to 
Red  Hiver,  tliouirh,  as  the  walir  was  uniisimlly  low.  we  licaid  ho 
had  a  journey  of  exlrenu;  dillienliy,  and  had  nearly  perished  of 
hunjfer.  There  was,  on  the  way,  an  enilosed  luiryiny;  ground, 
where  one  of  my  hrother's-in-law,  a  tiauuhter  of  Oto-jmn-ne-be, 
and  others  of  my  friends  and  acijuaintanees,  had  be<>n  linried. 
Many  ol  (lu'se  jriaves  wire  well  eovered,  Init  (id.  Dit  kson  broke 
down  the  |)ailin!rs,  and  destroyed  the  htlle  houses  that  had  btiMk 
raised  ovt-r  'he  jiraves;  at  whith  ((inrluii  tin-  Indians  \\«ie  niuili 
ollended.  They  threalmed  to  lake  his  lilt,  and  mii;ht  liavedono 
so  had  an  opportunity  olleied  ;  he  went  to  l\'iiii)inah.  ihenee  to 
Lake  'I'raverse,  and  relurm  d  no  more  iiilo  tiie  i:oiintry  of  the 
Ojiblieways. 

A  few  days  after  :ny  arrival  at  Me-naw-zhe-lan-naunti,  one  of 
mv  ehildren  sickened  and  died  of  the  measles,  a  eoinplaint  nl  that 
lime  very  fatal  amonir  the  Indians.  The  oihers  were  subsc- 
(|uently  attaeked,  but  1  now  knew  i)elter  how  to  take  care  of 
tiiein,  and  no  more  died.  Soon  alter  this,  provisions  beeamo 
scar»  e,  an  I  I  was,  with  Me-zhuk-ko-iiaim,  niakiiiir  preparations 
for  a  medieine  hunt.  In  my  dream  i  saw  the  same  yount;  '^i'*^"  I 
]ind  betorc  seen  on  .-limilar  oeeasions,  eoine  down  in  the  usuni 
inaiiner,  ant  stand  before  me.  lie  reproved  me  with  more  than 
usual  harsliness  for  my  eoiii|ilaints,  and  iieeausc  I  rrird  lor  the 
cliild  I  had  reeently  lost.  "  lleiieelorth,"  said  he,  "you  shall 
see  me  no  more,  and  that  whi<  h  remains  before  \ou,  of  your 
path,  shall  be  full  of  briirs  and  thorns.  It  is  on  aeeoiint  of  the 
iiuiny  erimes,  and  the  Itad  ecnidnet  ol  vcMirwifr,  tiiat  all  y(Mii- 
(tnninu  days  are  to  be  filled  with  Iroi.ble.  Ni  verlheless,  as  you 
liavi"  ealled  in<  this  linir.  I  uivi  \  on  soniethiiiir  to  cat."  When 
lie  said  this,  I  looked  and  saw  before  iiu>  many  dueks  covering; 
the  surfaee  of  the  waltr,  and  in  another  place  a  stiirirenn,  in  u 
third  a  raindeer.  This  dream  was  lidlilled,  as  Usual,  at  least  as 
iinieli  of  it  as  related  to  in\   hunting  and  lis|iin<>. 

As  the  winter  came  on,  I  went  to  Ked  Kiver  to  hunt  bullhlor, 
and  make  dry  meat,  ami  early  in  the  spring;  I  started  to  eome  to 
the  slates.  From  my  first  wife  I  had  parted  ten  years  beforr" 
the  time  I  now  speak  of;  but  the  urueney  o|  ilie  Indians,  and.  in 
[mrU  ihu  necesiiily  ul'  uiy  Hiluatioii,  iiad  cuiupellrd   lun  lo  lake 


•♦« 


ll 


I  : 


I 


d')> 


^6 


tanner's    NARRATIVt. 


•i 


ii 


\":!     i 


I 


another.*  By  tliis  woman  I  liiul  thrco  children ;  those  by  niy 
former  wiff  were  not  at  present  in  the  village.  My  wile  rclusinc 
to  accompany  me,  I  took  the  three  children  and  started  without 
her.  At  Rainy  Lake  she  overtook  me,  and  agreed  to  accompa- 
iiy  me  to  Mackinac. 

On  niy  way  down,  I  was  assisted  hy  the  Noith  Wes't Compa- 
ny. At  Drunimoiid's  Island  '  was  disappointed  of  large  p  -scnts 
given  me  when  on  my  wav  to  (he  Liike  of  the  Woods,  I)mI  which, 
as  I  did  not  then  wish  to  take,  were  promised  me  on  my  return. 
The  cinnmandiiig  otlicer  who  had  shown  me  so  much  kindness, 
had  heen  relieved  by  another,  of  a  very  diflerent  character,  one 
who  s('»'nipd  to  iiml  tio  satisfaction  in  doing  any  iliiiig  for  any 
person  connected  with  the  Indians.  This  man  refused  to  see  mc, 
or  afl'ord  me  any  assistance.  By  the  kindness,  however,  of  Mr. 
Enimtinucr,  of  the  Saut  l)e  .St.  Marie,  1  was  enabled  to  reach 
Mackinac. 

Col.  Boyd,  the  Indian  agent  at  that  time  at  Mackinac,  called 
me  to  him*  and  wished  to  hire  mc  as  a  striker  in  his  smith's 
shop ;  but  not  liking  the  employment,  I  did  not  wish  to  remain. 
He  gave  me  one  hundred  pnumls  of  flnnr,  the  same  quantity  ol 
pork,  some  whiskey,  tobacco,  Ac.  There  were  two  vessels 
about  to  sail  for  Cliikatro,  but  neither  of  them  would  take  nic 
as  a  passenger,  ihouuh  i  had  money  enouijh,  and  was  willing  Id 
pay  them.  As  I  had  no  other  alternativ<',  T  was  rompelled  to 
pur<'hase  from  the  Indian^  a  poor  and  (dd  biirk  canoe,  for  which 
1  gave  sixty  ilollars,  and  I  cnifaijed  three  Frenchmen  to  acconi- 

panv  me  ;  but  Col.  B would   not   |)ernnt  them  to  go.     He 

gave  me,  however,  a  letter  In  Dr.  Wolcolt,  who  was  now  Indian 
agent  at  Chikago,  ami  I  -tarti  d  with  onl\  one  man  to  assist  nic. 

At  tlie  (Utawwaw  settlement  of  Waw-gtm-nuk-kiz-ze  I  stop- 
ped for  a  -"Imrt  tirn*',  ai\d  fnidiui;  ihat  n  y  cinoe  was  t<'o  trail 
and  leaky  to  perform  the  voyage,  I  purchased  another,  a  now 
one,  for  which    I  gave  eighty  d<dlars.     Several  of  my  ac(|uaiiit- 

*  The  piiinl'iil  tii|iir  of  iloiiH-tiic  iritulilcit,  ;inil  tho  iniwonilurt  of  jursona  rii'Hrly 
allii'il  to  him,  m'i'iiisIo  JK'llir  onlv  one  on  wliicli  llitMiurrulor  IiiimiioI  s|M>kcn  hii' 
cJeHriirhs.  TlH'rc  is,  in  rrlition  to  lhif«  miIijci'I,  somr  wmil  ot'dintiiictrifSD ;  liulii 
is  bcU«*v<Hl  tliiK  will  not  Im>  iliciuirlit  in  .iiliti  tin-  rrt'ililuJitv  of  ttu-  niin:iiivi>,  iiuii- 
luucli  iiM  wr  ilincoviT  no  ili-jmrtuni  I'roui  trulii,  uiiIub»  the  bU|i|ir(!S8iou  c<f  some  liici* 
'nn  Iw  con»iii«Tf(|  •nirli 


(■; 


,  t 


*'  1 


V 


mms 


I'ANNER  S    NAKKATlVk:. 


'J&1 


by  my 
clusinfi 
without 
'compa- 

Compa- 


.  "sents 


i\  v/\\n'\h 
iv  return. 
Uintlnt's*'. 
acter,  one 
pr  for  any 
to  see.  mc, 
cr,  of  Mr. 
il  to  reach 

iiac,  raUed 

his  smith' r^ 
1  to  remain. 

quantity  ol 

two  vessels 
,„h\  take  me 

,s  willinp;  t" 

cmipelhMl  to 

,e,  for  which 
11  to  arconi- 
to  }I0.     Hr 
MOW  IncVwii 
to  assist  mc. 
i/.-ze  I  stoiv 
was  too  frail 
,ther.  a  new 
my  ttcipiaiii' 

^,f  ,M  rsons  ni'Htly 
\,.  u»  luiivp,"'"'- 


■jnces  union^  the  Otawwaws,  determined  to  unouipaiiy  me,  and 
started  accordingly,  eitrKf  men  in  one  canoe,  and  six  in  another, 
with  some  women.  They  went  on  with  me  until  we  arrived 
within  one  or  two  days'  journey  of  ("hikuixo,  when  meeting 
iilliir  ln(hans,  with  discourairing  accounts  of  the  state  uf  the 
water  in  the  Illin<iis,  ihey  left  me  and  went  back.  My  wife  re- 
turned with  them. 

When  I  arrived  at  ("hika^ro,  I  was  sick  of  a  fever,  and  my  pro- 
visions beiu^^  exiiiiuslerl,  I  was  in    ifrcat  distress.      1  went  to  Dr. 
Wnlcott  to   present    liim  tlie   letter  from   ('id.  Hoyd,  the  Indian 
aijcnt   at  Mackinac,   l)ut   he   would   not  receive  it,   nor  take  any 
notice   of  me.     He  km  w   well   who  I  was,  as   he   had  seen  me. 
when  f   passed  Cliikatio  Ik  lore,  and  I  could  not   tell  why  hr  re- 
fused iiie  assistance.      I  had  nty  tent  set  up   at  a    little  distance 
iroin  his  house,  near  a  wild  rice   swamp,  and   lor  several   days, 
ilimiirh  I  was  so  much  nnire  unwell  ilial   I  was  scarce  aide  to  sit 
up  live  minutes  at  a    tini< ,    I    sidisisted   mv  children  liy  shooting 
llic  hiack   hirils  as    tlu'j   came   ami  settled  on  llu'  rice.      When   I 
uas  afram  aide,  with  the  aid  of  two  sticks,  to  crawl  to  the  houst; 
of  Dr.  Wolcott,    I  went   to  re|)reseril   to   him  thai  my  «hildreu 
\uiein  danuer  of  perishinn  of  hunger;  hut  he  drove  me  harshly 
.iWiiy.     When  I    left  his  door,  i  shed  some  tears,  whieh    it  wa.s 
not  connntm  tor  me  to  do  :  hut  I  was  rendered  womanish  hy  my 
sickness.     Three  or   fmu'  linus   I   (ainled.    and  lay   lonir  hy  th«; 
road  side,  *m  the   way  tVom  his  house   to  my  tent.      Hut  my  snf. 
icrin^s,   and  those  ol    ui\  children,  were  shortly  afterwards  re- 
ijrved  hy  a  l-'renchman,  who  had  heen  to  <'arry  sonu-  boats  across 
lie  I'ortaize.     His  wife  wa^  an  ()|il>heway  woman,  and  eoninu)!!- 
h  accompanied   him    when  he    went   to  take  an\  boats  across. 
Tliou^[h  his  horses  were  now  nmch  worn  out  with  the  lonij  jonr- 
lay  from  which  he  had  retinned,  he  atrreed  to  take  me  and  my 
i;iiioe  sixty  miles,  and  if  hi>   hor»es   eonlil    Indd   out,   the  wlioln 
(iMc  hundred  and  lweut\,  which  was,  at  the  present  sta>i<'  of  wa- 
irr.  the  ien>{tli  <if  the  Portaue,   for  which  I  aifreed  to   pay  him 
agreeable  to  his  di  nuind,  which   I  thonulil  ver\  moih'rale.     Ho 
lent  me,  also,  a  yoimu  horse  to  ride,  as  I   was  far   t»»o  weak  to 
think  of  walkini*,  and  he  ihouuht  I  could  ride  on  horseback  much 
more  conifortablv  than  in  the  carl  with    the  canoe.      Before  wo 
irrivcd  at  the  end  of  the  eixlv  mile^.  he  wos  taken  sick,  and  as 


!,^ 


A  r 


I5& 


lANNKKS    NAKKATIVK. 


there  was  now  a  liulc  wator  in  tlie  river,  I  conciniied  to  put  my 
canoe  in,  and  try  to  ilesrend  in  it.  Ills  yonufr  Imrse,  the  niffht 
after  I  gave  it  up  to  him,  was  :Uoh'n  by  tlie  Po-ta-wato-mies. 
He  was  seized  with  the  bh)ody  fhix,  hut  as  he  had  a  young  man 
with  him,  1  rendered  him  what  assistance  I  couhi  in  starting,  and 
let  him  go  back.  My  Frenchman  iiad  deserted  from  me  soon  af- 
ter I  h'ft  Chikago,  and  I  Iiad  now  nw  person  to  assist  me  excej)! 
an  ohi  Indian,  caHed  <ios-so-kwaw-waw,  (the  smoker.)*  We  pui 
llie  canoe  in  the  water,  but  we  couhi  not  get  into  it  ourselves, 
only  sometimes  llie  chihiren  were  put  in,  anri  we  took  them 
down,  one  walking  at  the  bow,  the  other  at  the  stern  of  the  ca- 
noe. We  had  proce«'ded  no  more  than  three  iiiles,  when  I 
Ibund  that  this  method  was  likely  to  prove  so  laborious  and 
slow,  that  I  thought  best  to  encase  a  Po-ta-wat(i-mie,  whom  1 
met  there,  and  who  agreed  for  a  blanket  and  a  p-'ir  of  leggins,  to 
lake  my  baggatre  and  my  children  rm  his  horses  (o  the  moiitli 
of  the  An-num-mun-ne  Se-be,  «ir  Yellow  Ochre  River,  a  distance 
of  sixty  miles.  The  An-num-ninn-iie  comes  from  towards  tin 
Mississippi,  and  below  it  there  is  always,  in  the  Illinois,  wattr 
enough  for  canoes.  I  felt  somewhat  afraid  to  trust  the  Po-ia 
wato-inie  wilh  my  children,  and  the  bag^riij>e,  which  contained 
some  valuable  [)ropert\,  but  old  (Jos-so-kwaw-waw  was  ol 
opinion  that  he  would  prove  hcmest.  When  he  put  the  childrcii 
on  the  horses,  he  said,  '*  In  three  days  I  shall  be  at  the  mouth  w 
(he  An-num-muii-iie  River,  and  shall  wail  for  you  there." 

Without  an\  farlhcr  words,  we  parted,  and  the  old  Sntokci 
and  myself  coniiiiiUMi  our  laborious  anil  ditlicull  route  almig  tlu 
bed  of  the  Illinois.  Most  of  the  country,  on  both  sides  the  route, 
from  Chikago  to  the  Yellow  Ochre  River,  are  prairie,  in  wliicli 
liorses  and  carls  can  be  driven  willio\it  any  diflicidtv.  On  our 
arrival  at  the  place  appointed,  we  found  ihe  Po-la-wat(»-inif 
there,  and  all  safe. 

We  now  embarked  ever)  iliirii;  together  in  the  canoe,  uiul  wrnt 
down  to  Fort  Clark,  which  is  on  a  narrow  neck  of  land,  betworu 
two  lakes,  aiul  is  ihence  called  by  Ihe  Indians  Ka-gali-guia- 
ming,t  (ihe  islhmns.)  Here  I  lound  some  ac(|uaintances,  (H 
rather  those  who  rlaimeil  relationship  in  consequence  of  thcii 

♦  SuKKUH-HWnw-wiiw — ihr  .'^inuktr,  in  Ojibbowoy. 

f   Ka-jfa/i-»um-mif>!r.  oliiuNif  watpr 


(  . 
A 


\ 


.    't 


t.^^ 


;)  put  uiy 
he  nijflit, 
ato-inics. 
jung  man 
rtinu;,  and 
le  soon  al- 
mc  t'xrept 
)*  Wt-  pui 
ourselves, 
took  llieni 
,  of  Ibc  fa- 
PS,  when  I 
l)orious  anil 
ie,  whom  1 
,f  h'jigins,  t(t 
,  the  moiitli 
r,  a  tlistanco 
towards  thi 
Hinois,  wattv 
isl  the  Po-lii 
eh  contained 
kvaw  wdA  of 
t  the  ehihlrn, 
the  mouth  I" 
\ere. 

,.  ohl  Snuikci 
iiite  uh)ntr  tin 
,lfs  the  route. 
I  vie,  in  wliifli 
uliy.     On  oui 
'.».ta-wtiU»-in'' 

iiiop.  autl  w  rm 
hiixl,  hetweru 
Ka-t;uh-irum- 
iiaintunees,  i>i 
luencc  of  tlicii 


lANNtU  S   NAUK.\1'1\  I.. 


'Zb\i 


having  been  in  somo  measure  connected  with  iho  lamiiy  tliat  T. 
belonged  to  among  llie  Indians.  Here  was  a  Taw-ga-we-nin-ne, 
a  son  of  him  that  had  been  the  husband  of  Net-no-kwa,  and  some 
of  the  relatives  of  one  of  my  wives.  One  of  ihes(\  :ia  old  woman, 
ffave  nu!  a  sack  of  \Viskol)inun(  nidi,  or  that  sort  of  corn  which  is 
jilucked  green,  boiled,  and  tlien  dri<'i).  'J'wo  or  three  miles 
beyoni!  this,  as  I  went  on  my  way,  I  saw  a  man  standing  on  the 
bank,  who,  as  I  came  opposite  to  him,  called  out,  "my  friend,  do 
yon  love  venison  .'"  When  I  told  liim  I  did,  and  had  put  my 
canoe  in  slu)re,  he  lifted  a  lartie  and  fi»t  deer  into  it,  saying, 
•'perhaps  y(tu  will  like  to  eat  some  o''  this,  which  I  have  just  now 
Icilled."  He  was  goinji  to  turn  away,  when  1  called  him  hark, 
anil  thonifh  he  refused  any  compen-^atiun  for  the  deer,  I  irave  him 
a  little  powder  and  shot,  and  some  llinis,  for  which  he  appeared 
very  thankful. 

About  this  tinu',  when  1  was  one  day  warm  at  work.  1  sliol  a 
crane,  and  got  into  the  water  to  lake  it  up.  Shortly  after  I  fell 
somewhat  unwell,  l>ut  iu)t  retlectinir  on  the  cause  of  my  illness.  1 
went  again  into  the  water  to  sret  r<omethin<r  I  had  shot,  when  im- 
mediately I  fell  down,  and  was  unable  to  get  up.  Mv  fever  rr- 
iiirned  upon  me  with  such  violenc*-,  that  being  in  immediate  ex- 
pectation of  death.  I  t;ave  the  Old  Snu)ker  directions  to  take  my 
children  to  (io\crnor  ("lark,  who,  I  was  conlident,  wonid  assist 
them  in  reaching  my  relatives.  Uui  contrary  to  my  expectation. 
1  became  gradually  better,  andalUT  somi'  days  was  ai)le  to  goon 
my  journey.  We  jmssed  great  numbers  of  I'otawallomies,  their 
lodges  standing  manv  to'rither,  in  almost  every  bend  of  the  river. 
Sonu'  ol  them  siarud  out  in  their  canoes  occasionally,  and  ac- 
companied me  some  distance  on  my  way.  One  day  a  man  came 
iinming  from  his  lodge  to  the  bank  ol  the  river,  and  asked  me 
who  I  was.  When  I  had  told  him,  be  in<;nired  if  my  children 
could  eat  h(UU'\  ;  and  w  hen  I  tolil  him  I  b<  lirved  they  could,  be 
sent  two  young  men,  each  with  a  large  wtntden  l)owl  lull,  whicli 
ibey  bromrht  wading  into  tin  water,  and  banded  to  me. 

In  this  manner  1  descended  the  Illinois  Hiv<'i,  killing  plenty  of 
sfanu',  and  bavinu  at  all  times  enouirb  to  eat ;  my  health,  also, 
graduall\  inijiroving,  until  I  came  to  St.  I^onis.  Here  (iovernor 
<!|urk  showed  his  wonted  kindness,  not  only  to  ine  and  mvcliil- 
drfn,  hut  to  the  Old  Snmkrr,  who  had  been  so  oervieenbie  to  mr 


X 


J:      . 


.iH' 


V 


n 


f  •; 


.1. 


p  % 


yi5e 


TANNtRS    NAKUAl'IVl.. 


1^  w  .1^ 


<   f^k 


U,i     ijfi, 


ll 


k'. 


in  my  .jovirnr\ .  Al'tnr  irivinjr  tlir  old  man  a  Iiandsoiur  pvesoni, 
ho'  provided  (or  }iis  return  to  his  own  country,  and  dismissed  lijin. 
J  was  detained  loiifrer  at  St.  Louis  than  I  h;id  wisheil,  as  new 
clothes  were  to  he  tna(U"  for  my  rhildren.  Some  of  these  not 
havinir  hccn  etnnpieted  in  time  for  me  to  take  with  nie,  the  (In- 
vnrnur  sent  liien)  afterwards  to  Keiitncky.  rrom  Si.  Louis,  [ 
■went  to  Capeliuirardeau,  in  my  hirch  l)ark  canoe,  having;  a  leilei 
from  (Jovernor  ("lark   to  the  IndiaM  iiiient  at  that  place. 

At  Cape  (iuirardeau.  wliere  I  lel't  my  canoe,  and  where  I  re- 
mained i)ut  a  very  short  time,  I  saw  scnne  of  the  frciitlemen  nf 
Major  Lonji's  j)arty,  then  on  their  return  from  tlu'  liocky  Moiiu 
tains.  This  was  in  the  fall  of  the  y(ar  li^'^O,  and  was  alxmi  .nir 
year  a  ;er  mv  lirst  arrival  on  ihe  Ohio,  in  i^^li).  Frinn  the  tiiiic 
of  my  <apture  hy  Manito-o-j:rezhik  aiid  (iish-kaw-ko,  just  iliirt\ 
years  liud  ela|)-  d,  lieforc  f  siartiii  in  tin'  sprintr  ot  IHI9,  Inun  thf 
Lak<>  of  the  Woods.  So  that  it  inusi  iiave  heen  in  the  spriny:  <M 
the  year  !7*^'.>.  that  i  was  taken  prisoner.  I  am  now  forty-seven 
years  idd. 

Four  months  I  remained  with  my  sisters  at  .fackson,  fiftern 
miles  from  ('ape  (Juirardeau  ;  then  I  went  t(»  Kentuckv,  and  tin 
m^xt  fall  I  retin'ued  to  St.  Lotiis,  to  see  (Jovernor  ("lark;  hnt  In' 
was  not  at  home,  and  as  many  |)eopl«'  uere  then  dvinsr  in  Si. 
Louis  of  fevers,  1  made  tun  a  short  sia\.  t)n  my  'Aa\  home,  I 
Jell  siek  of  a  violent  fever  at  the  (Jrand  I'rairie,  which  is  cinhh 
miles  from  the  place  wher*-  I  had  left  mychihiren.  FortunatiK 
I  tell  into  the  hands  ol  a  woman  who  trcat'd  me  \\ilh  inncli  li<i- 
manitv  and  kindm-ss,  and  i  soon  heiran  to  reenvir.  I  now  hean! 
that  my  children  were  dyiuif  with  the  fever  which  prevailed  sn 
•renerally  thnnijrhont  the  coimtry,  and  notwilhstandinir  mv  own 
iniserahle  and  dehilitnted  eondiliim,  I  hastened  home.  Onh  mio 
of  my  children  died.  The  othe.s,  tiiouirh  very  sick,  at  last  ir 
covered.  Hut  I  was  not  alone  in  this  aliliciion.  Seven  died  oiit 
of  the  eirclf  of  my  near  relatives,  with  whom  I  then  lived,  amliiii 
alarmiiur  nuutality  prevailed  throuirh(mt  that  part  of  the  state. 

On  the  eiisuinir  sprin":,  an  attempt  was  made  to  recover  sonu- 
lliinir  for  my  heiielit.  from  the  estate  of  m\  talher:  hut  my  step- 
mother sent  several  of  the  m'uroes,  which  it  was  thouuht  mi  lit 
fall  to  me,  to  the  island  of  (^uha.  where  thev  were  stdd.     Tlii- 


ill 


'I 


.1 


V  ^. : 


\\ 


■\\ 


-^^ 


r\r 


pvesent, 
ssoil  him. 
\,  as  new 
tlit'si'  not 

0,  tllf  tiu- 

1.  liiHiis,  I 
ing  11  liiViei 


1  \XXER  S    NAUUATIVK. 


•^61 


Jivisinoss  is   yet.   unsettled,    and    iTiiiaiiis    in    the   lianils  oC   the 
lawyers. 

In  the  sprinjr  of  1822,  I  started  to  tin  a^  in  t(»  the  north,  not 
findinif  lliat  I  \ias  ((Miteril  aniDnu  my  tViends  in  Kenlueivy.  I  went 
iiy  the  way  of  ihe  (irand  Prairie,  and  haviiiif  irivrn  rnv  eaiioe  to 
)ii\'  hrutlicr.  I  look  horses,  ami  pultinir  ni\  ehiidren  iin  iheui.  I 
eaine  to  !Sl.  Louis,  ihenee  hy  way  of  the  llhiuiis,  lowarils  Clii- 
Jvaji'o. 

The  Indian  anient   for  F<>rt  ('iarl\  liv(>d  at  tliis  time  at  a  jjhice 
ealh'd  1,1k  Heart.  s(inie  distance  lieiuw.      Jle.  as  well  as  most  of 
the  j)i  ii|ih!  on  this  route,  had  heen  kind,  and  had  shmvn  a  dispo- 
sition to  as.^isl  me  whenever  I  nci'ded  any  ihini:.      On  tliis  joiir- 
uey  I  sloppvd  at  i  Ik  Heart,  at  the  hou-e  of  tlie  a-j-ent,  and  thou^ili 
he  was  not   himsc  ll   at  home.  I  liad    my  liorses  l\'{\.  and  was  sup- 
plied with  what    relVeshment   I  ne<'ded  for   myself  and  ehiidren. 
iVee  of  expense.     On  the  lollowinii  day,  I  met  the   airenl  on   his 
way  dome  from  Foi .  »'lark.nnd  told  him  nf  the  reeeption   i  had 
met  at  his    hou.-e  in   his  alisenee.      lli-   was  tflad  to  liear  of  tliis. 
and  he  tol-i  me  tliat  I  shouhl  soon  eoni<'  to  a  had  river  to  cross  ■ 
*•  hut,"  said  he,  '*  there  is  a  hoat  now  (m  this  side,  in  which  I  have 
Vist  crossed.     The  man  to  whom  it  lKdon«is,  lives  on   the  other 
>ide.      Y(ni  must  use  the  hoat  to  cross,  and  then  tell  him  to  lakf 
it  around  to  the  other  river,  which  is  heyond  his  house,  and  hcl() 
vou  to  cross  that,  and  \  will  pay  him  for  his  trouhle."   We  crossed 
accordiiiifls,  hut  my  daiisrhtt-r  Martha  heinn  m»w  sick,  we  stopped 
all  day  near  the  house  of  the  man  to  whom  the  canoe   helonjred. 
i  had  one  very  handsome  horse,  whicli  had  hi"n  ijiven  me  hy  my 
hrolher,  and  which  this  man  said  he  was  determined  to  have  from 
me.      He  tdl'ered  to  hiiy  it:   hut    I  Itdd  him  the   horse  was  iieces- 
sary  '<>  niy  journey,  and  I  coidd  hy  no  nn'aiis  part  w  ilh  it.     Still 
he  insisted,  and    said,  unless  I  would   let   him    have  the  hor>e,  [ 
should  not    have  his  ranoe  to  cros^,  the  oilnr  rixer.      He  cursed 
and  ahused  me,  hut  all  the  means  he  could  use,  did  not  induce  me 
to  yi\c  up  the  horse.     The  canoe  had  l.itM   laktMi  arotntd  to  the 
iiv«'r  I  had  to  cross,  for  the  use  ol' some  other  person,  and  wheit 
I  was  ready  to  no  I  started,  (•xpeclinii;  lo  fnid  il  there,    lint  nw  my 
way  to  the  ferrv ,  I  met   tin"  man  <m  horsehaek,  who  said  lo  me, 
•'  i  havt  taken  awa\  the  canoe,  atid  \oii  cannot  <'ross,"    Without 
vc'iardina  this,  1  went  on.  and  wiien  i  arrived,  1  found  the  cnnno 


ll! 


,  I 


I'  (■■ 


!* 


■f   I. 


id 


'  '  i 


'\ 


•i&z 


lANNtRS    NAKKATIVi:. 


was  iiiclecil  gone,  and  thai  then"  wore  no  loijs,  or  othrr  niatcriaN 
to  niai-yaralt.  Frarini^  to  t'U(lan!<t'r  llic  children,  liy  s\viiiiuiin<; 
them  across  on  the  horse's  backs,  [  sioorl  fcr  some  time  in  (lonlit 
what  to  do.  At  last  1  rccoUccted,  that  if  lie  had  hid  the  canor. 
as  was  tnosl  |)roi)ably  the  case,  his  track  wo(dd  h-ad  nic  tu  it. 
Tliun  iroini;  Itack  to  the  road,  a  ooiisidoraldc  disiaace  Iroin  tin 
river,  1  I'onnd  his  track  cuniiritr  into  it.  This  i  luiiovvcd,  until  I 
found  the  caiKic  hid  in  ihick  hii-hcs,  ahout  a  mile  hclnw  the  i'crrv, 
Takiiio-  it  up  to  the  cn.-sinir  |)lace,  I  carried  my  children,  and  led 
the  horses  over;  then  irivinir  ihi' canoe  a  j)u«-li  into  the  str»'ani.  1 
said  to  it,  "  ifo,  and  stay  where  your  master  hides  yon." 

At  Chika-fti,  I  was  comixdied  to  sell  inv  horses  (or  nnndi  less 
than  tiieir  value,  to  ('a[)taiti  Hradh>y  and  a  Mr.  Kenzie,  who  wa* 
then  ajreiit  in  place  oC  Dr.  Wolcnil,  as  they  'old  me  I  conld  iioi 
gel  them  taken  t(»  iVIackinac.  Oncfdd  horv.'.  wlii:h  I  IctY  as  ix  in;: 
of  little  or  no  value,  I  afterwards  received  lifieen  dollars  for,  from 
sotnc  (jfcntiemen  who  wish  >  make  use  ol' him,  hut  \vhr>  niiahi 
hav(!  had  him  tor  noihiiiix.  \Vhen  (-"a|»lain  Keith,  in  the  schoo- 
ner Jackson,  arrived,  he  told  me,  on  seein;r  the  paper  jriven  iik 
by  (iovernor  Clark,  (hat  lie  would  hav<' taken  my  horses  to  Mack 
inac  for  nolhinir;   but  it  was  iiuw  ton  late,  as  they  were  sold, 

A  ])riiici|)al  partof  inv  desitrii  in  retiirninjr  to  Mackinac,  waste 
fUiratre  m\  self  to  Col.  Hoyd,  the  Indian  aLniil  there,  as  an  inter- 
preter; he  havinj)  very  often  expressed  a  wish  that  I  shoidd  dc 
.so,  whenever  I  had  acipnreil  such  a  knowlediie  ol'  the  Kn-ilish  Ian 
ffua^e,  us  would  fiualify  me  to  dis<diarire  ihe  dinies  of  ihal  stu 
tion.  It  was  now.  therefore,  a  dis.'ippidntment  to  nu'.  to  be  in 
formed  that  I  had  come  too  late,  an  interpreter  havinir  recrulh 
been  hired  to  till  the  |)Iace.  He  iiifdrnu'd  me,  however,  that  ai 
ageni  to  be  statiom-d  at  ihe  .Saut  Jle  St.  Mary,  woidd  probaliK 
arrive  in  the  steam  l)oal  which  was  expected  iinmediahdv,  iind 
Col.  Iloyd  thoiiirhl  i  miiilit  nbtain  tin-  situation  of  interpreter  for 
Iiim.  When  Mr.  Schoidcrafi,  the  ircntleman  e\-))ecte  1,  arrived 
at  Mackinac,  he  r»'adily  a<ce|>ieil  my  proposal.  Hiil  as  he  wav 
to  stay  but  an  Innn-  (m*  two  nu  (he  inland,  he  direrted  me  to  make 
my  pre|)aratiiins  and  follow  him,  allowing  me  four  davs  after  his 
arrival  at  the  .Saut,  before  it  was  nec«'ssarv  for  me  to  be  there. 
I  made  my  [)rep  nations  accordini,dy,  and  was  nearly  ready  to 
start,  when  a  letter  ranie  from  Mr.  Schoolrrnft.  stating  that  hf 


( 


,  ( 


^ 


toriui- 

canoo. 

('  U>  il- 

vinlil  I 
10  iVrvy. 
,  ami  U'tl 
Uram.  I 


iANNKU  la    NAKKA'lIVK. 


263 


Imd  loiuitl  an  interpreter  at  the  8aul,  anil  tlieroforc  iliil  not  wish 
jue  to  juin  iiiin.  1  carried  buck  to  the  traders  ihc  luriiiture  and 
other  articles  which  i  had  purchased  with  the  expectation  ot'  re- 
siding at  the  aJaut,  and  they  villiiigly  restored  me  my  money. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

rraiiiactioiisol  ilic  aftcnla  iiml  clerks  of  tho  Aiuprican  Fur  C'oinpniiy,  in  ihc  counlry 
alM)Ul  ilif  Lille  of  the  Wmxls — trcaclicr\  of  tin  Imliaii  woman — i:iislbrtuai'K  at 
trndunt  on  an.ittoni)it  to  liriiii;  iny  cliililrcn  from  tlu-  Iiuliart  romitry. 

Being  now  destitute  of  empK>yment,  I  engaijed  to  Mr.  Stewart, 
the  agfent  of  tlie  American  Fur  Company,  to  go  with  the  traders 
into  the  Indian  country.  This  I  preferred  to  remainiii<r  with  the 
Indian  ajreiit,  thouf^h  he  a^ain  proposed  to  hire  me  for  a  striker 
in  his  smith's  shoji.  For  my  services  with  the  people  of  the. 
American  Fur  ('ompany,  1  was  to  receive  two  iiundred  ami 
twenty-five  doUars  per  year,  and  a  suit  of  ciotlies. 

My  children  I  placed  at  school  at  Mackinac,  and  went  to  the 
Saiit  He  St.  Marie  with  Mr.  Morrison,  one  of  the  <onipanyV 
prii\cipal  clerks.  Thence  they  sent  me,  in  a  boat,  with  some 
Frenchmen,  to  Fond  |)u  Lac.  I  was  unacipiainlcfl  with  the  man- 
ners of  these  people,  and  should  have  sutlered,  and  perli;ips  pe- 
rished for  want  of  jirovisions,  had  I  not  |)iirchased  sume  oc<'u- 
.-it>nallv  from  the  crew.  From  Fom<I  Du  Lac  I  went  to  Rainv 
Lake  with  Mr.  Cote  ;  !)ut  my  iijnorance  of  the  business  ja  whi<  (i 
1  had  embarked,  exposed  me  to  much  inconvenience.  I  had  still 
-ome  of  my  (raps  with  me,  witli  which  I  took  a  consideral)lc 
iiuml)er  of  musk  rats  on  tills  journey,  ami  I  was  init  less  surprised 
than  dis|)leased,  to  be  told  that  the  >kins  did  not  belonj^  to  me. 
IJut  f  was  not  only  compellerl  to  jiive  these  up:  I  was  made  to  pad- 
tile  by  myself  (1  canoe,  heavily  loaded  with  wild  rice,  and  to  sub- 
mit to  variotis  other  laborious  employments,  which  I  <Iid  very 
reluctantly. 

When  we  arrived  at  Rainy  Lake,  I  went  to  hunt,  but  killed 
nothine.     Soon  afterwards,  they  sent  nic  to  the  rapids  of  Kniny 


/ 


,'« 


.'.>    I 


I 


.'■ ', 


« 


•i64 


lANNEUS    NAKKATIVE. 


Lakf  River;  iiml  before  llie  ice  liad  I'orimul  so  as»  to  put  an  end 
to  the  fishing,  I  had  taken  om?  hiiiidreil  and  tiCiy  sitirijcdns.  Tho 
winter  had  now  comnienrcd,  and  Mr.  (Unv  sent  mv,  with  one 
clerk,  tour  Frenchnuii,  and  a  small  ouUit  of  jrirnds,  ii|ual  to  one 
hundred  and  sixiy  dollars  in  value,  to  tradi'  anicinu;  the  Indians. 
We  were  furnislied  with  no  other  food  than  wild  rice,  at  the  rat* 
of  ei^rliieen  (|iiarts  |)er  man,  and  insiructcd  not  to  return  until  wo 
should  have  exchanjrcd  for  [xdtries  all  our  {roods.  As  I  knew  wo 
slioidd  l)r  compelled  to  travel  far  before  we  found  the  Indians,  I 
requested  <d'  Mr.  Cote  |)ermissiun  to  remain  w  Idle  I  could  |)re|)are 
a  train  and  harness  for  two  good  dogs  which  belonged  to  me ; 
also  snow  shoes  for  ourselves,  but  he  would  not  hear  of  a  mo- 
ment's delay. 

Four  days  alter  we  started,  a  heavy  snow  fell,  and  our  wild 
rice  being  all  e\|)endiii,  the  <derk  and  three  of  the  Krciwhmen 
left  me  and  returned  to  the  P'ort.  There  was  now  only  myself 
and  one  Frenchman  named  V<'iage,  who  houever  was  a  hurdy, 
|)ati«iil,  and  most  exct  llent  nnm,  and  we  struggleil  through  tlu: 
snow  with  oin-  hea\  \  I. ..ids  as  \ve  might. 

After  sonu-  days,  ami  when  we  were  extremely  reduced  through 
uani  of  provisions,  we  found  some  lodges  of  Indians,  but  they 
also  were  in  a  starving  condition.  With  these  I  left  Veiaije,  ami 
with  a  few  goods,  went  to  visit  another  encampment  at  some  dis- 
tance; these  also  I  found  perishing  of  himger.  On  my  return  to 
the  place  where  I  had  left  my  companion,  the  lodtres  were  re- 
moved, and  no  person  remained.  Here  my  strength  failed  en 
tirely,  and  I  sat  down  expectini;  to  perish,  as  the  niiiht  waN  very 
cold;  but  an  Imlian  who  had  <  ome  ba(k  to  look  at  his  traps, 
found  me,  made  a  lire,  and  after  he  had  raised  me  up,  assisted  uk 
to  his  lodge.  He  had  taken  one  beaver,  and  (his  was  now  to  Ik 
divided  ammig  twenty  persons,  not  one  of  whom  had  eaten  a 
mouthful  in  two  days,  and  all  ucre  in  a  starvini<  condnioji. 

Soon  after  this,  ;is  I  continued  on  my  journey  according  to  nu 
strength,  1  loinid  the  lodge  of  my  friend  Oto-pun-ne-be,  the  man 
who  had  taken  my  pat  I  in  the  alliiir  with  VVaw-bebe-nai.s-sa. 
His  wife  began  to  cry  when  she  saw  the  (  \irenie  misery  of  my 
condition,  s(t  much  was  I  reduced  and  chanired  in  a])|)earanro 
by  hun;ii'r  ami  fatigue.  About  this  lime  eisfht  starving  French- 
men  cuine  upon  us,  who  had  been  sent  by  Mr.  i'uic,  he   suppn 


r^ 


/  rt 


• 


TANM::U  ;>    NAUKAltV  i.. 


•Mb 


Miig  lliat  I  liad  loiinti  liiiflTalor,  itml  iniisi  liy  ilii-,  umc  liave  nuai 
ill  groilt  abiiiidaiuT.  One  (il  my  <loirs  ilicil,  iiiid  \\v  ate  him.  We 
were  travcllinjr  on  tlio  old  trail  of  llio  Indians,  but  a  deep  snow 
liad  fallen  since  they  passed.  Under  lids  snow  we  found  several 
lead  doirs,  and  other  lliiiiifs  llir(»\vu  auay  or  left  !>v  the  iudiaus, 
such  as  bones,  worn  out  moccasins,  and  |)ieces  of  leather.  With 
these  we  were  able  to  sustain  lil'i'.  We  killctl  also,  and  ale  m\ 
l;ist  dojr ;  bill  we  had  yet  a  long  distuiico  to  travel  before  we 
could  reach  the  bulliiloe,  and  a<  we  W(!re  all  rajiidly  failinix,  wo 
consulted  together,  and  determined  to  kill  one  of  the  Fur  Com- 
pany's dogs.  Wc  did  so,  and  this  enabled  us  to  reach  the  buHii- 
loe,  when  our  distress  was  for  the  present  at  an  i^iu\. 

After  I  had  killed  many  buflidoes,  and  meat  had  for  some 
uiiie  been  jilenty  in  our  camp,  the  Krenchmeii  became  lazy  and 
insolent,  and  refused  to  l^)  for  im  at,  to  carry  |  ks,  or  render  me 
;ii\y  assistance  wlintever.  When  we  were  ready  to  return  to  the 
tradinir  lumse,  every  one  of  these  men  refused  to  take  any  load 
init  his  own  blanket  and  |)rovi^ions,  excejit  Veiaife.  and  u'ith  him 
1  divided  our  peltries,  which  in  all  weiirlied  six  luinrlred  pound'-. 
\Vp  were  of  course  a  considerable  time  in  carryin<r  liicsc  heavy 
Iliads  to  the  Fort. 

Vlieii  I  arrived,  I  accounted  for  my  whole  outfit:  ha\in<r  the 
peltries  I  had  pun  based  in  exchan^ie  for  every  artiile,  except 
>iime  powder  and  shot,  which  we  had  ourselves  expemled  in 
!imitin]ff.  The  price  of  this  was  tleducted  from  my  pay,  in  my 
linal  settlement  with  the  aj^ent  of  the  American  Fur  flompany ; 
ihcii  ten  dollars,  the  price  .tfthe  doo  we  had  killed  in  the  extre- 
mity of  our  hunger,  ami  which  had  i)een  t tie  means  of  saving, 
!!0t  my  life  only,  but  that  of  the  nine  Frenchmen  that  were 
with  me.  FJut  Mr.  ("otc  <Iid  not  consider  my  return*  a  good  one, 
md  complained  of  me  for  Iiavin<r  refused  to  take  whiskey  with 
iiiv  (lutlit.  I  told  him  tiiat  it  I  had  taken  w  hi-:key,  I  could  cer- 
tainly have  obtained  a  much  greater  tpiaiitil\  id'  peltries,  but  I 
wasuverseto  tradinur  with  the  Indians  when  intoxicated,  and  did 
not  wish  to  be  one,  on  any  occasion,  to  introduce  whiskey 
among  them.     But   a'j   he  had  determined  on   sending  me  out 

•  Tills  word,  in  the  langimfiP  of  Ihc  fur  trailers  si^^nilics  not  the  coniiiie  back  of 
iliiilcrk  or  iKTsoiisfiit  out  Imt  llir  iK'ilries  iiri|uir(<l  liy  llic  outlit,  and  tt  fMjtjdlv 
'•>h\  if  ilif  iniilor  never  rcliirn.s  in  juthui  Icj  Iur  cin]>lovi  r 


II 


'i 


I 


( 


I   i 


26t» 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVE. 


»■ 


•     I;  (  «t 
■fill. 


t  \ 


again,  nnti  iiisistod  [  should  tiikr  wliiski-) ,  I  told  him  I  Wouhl  lur 
once,  conform  ciilirpiy  !•>  his  iiislnictions.  which  wav  "tousr 
overy  method  to  proriin;  the  jrrt';»'vsJ  f:  s'sildr  (jiiimlity  uf  skins, 
at  theh)U('st  price."  'I'his  time  I  ^wn.  tjo  ttii'  foiiiitry  about  tlie 
Lake  of  the  Woods,  ;ind  with  an  ov;  :  •  vaKuil  U  two  huudrcil 
Hollars,  I  purchased,  by  means  of  whiskt^y,  more  than  double  tlie 
anionnl  of  peltries  I  had  iiefore  brotiuhl  in.  J^av  Mr.  Cole  cx- 
presst'd  the  hiirjiest  satisfaction  at  my  success;  but  I  told  hiai.  ji 
he  Mishcd  to  have  his  jroods  s(dd  in  that  way,  he  must  eniplov 
.«oine  otluT  |)erson,  as  I  could  not  consent  to  l)e  the  instrunicnt 
ef  such  fraud  and  injuslice.  I  had  !)een  so  lonu  anioiifj  the  In- 
dians, that  many  of  tlieiii  were  personally  my  friends,  and  ha\  inir 
ween  the  exti'iit  of  the  mischiefs  occasioned  l)y  tlie  introduction 
of  intoxicating  li(piors,  I  liad  become  desir(Uis  of  preventin<f  it.  a-j 
far  as  in  my  power,  at  least;  I  was  not  willinir  to  he  myself  active 
in  spreading  such  poison  amonji  them ;  nor  was  I  willing  to  ii>i 
the  advantage,  their  unconquerable  appetite  for  spirits  might  uivr 
me,  in  bargaining  \\  ilh  them,  as  i  knew,  that  llnnigh  they  niiirh' 
easily  be  defrauded,  any  fraud  thus  practised  must  be  known  i.i 
them,  and  they  would  feel  resentment  and  dislike,  in  proportion 
as  they  were  made  to  suller;  more  particularly  against  me,  whom 
they  looked  upon  as  one  of  their  own  number. 

I  remained  lifteen  months  in  l)ie  American  Fur  Company'- 
employ,  during  all  which  time,  I  sle|)t  oidy  thirteen  nights  in  iln' 
house,  .so  active  and  laborious  were  my  occupations.  It  had  bctn 
an  iti'in  in  mv  ajrreement  with  Mr.  Stewart,  that  I  should  bi;  al- 
lowed to  go  to  lied  Itiver  to  .see  n\y  chilihen,  and  make  ana- 
tempt  to  bring  them  out  with  me.  Accordingly,  when  the  tradir^ 
were  about  to  make  their  yearly  visit  to  Mackinac,  I  was  alloweil 
to  go  by  myself;  but  having  been  disappointed  of  moccasins  and 
other  articles  that  liad  been  proiiiis(>d  me  by  Mr.  Cote,  1  suHlreii 
much  inc«>nvenience,  travellinj;as  I  did  !)>  myself  in  a  small  canoe. 
My  children  were  three  in  inimber,  two  daughters  and  one  son. 
and  had  been  a  long  time  separated  from  me,  even  before  I  tir?: 
left  tlie  Indian  country. 

Mr.  Clark,  of  the  Hudson's  Hay  Company,  who  was  now  sla 
lioned  at  Red  Fliver.  and  to  whom  I  had  a  letter,  refused  to  uiv 
me  any  assistance  in  recovering  my  children.  In  the  mornini;. 
when  I  arrived  there,  I  had  left  my  blanket  in  his  JUou.sc,  expcc  • 


V 


:\v  0-. 


mm 


Llio  was  now  sla 
|r.  rol'iisea  to  L'iv  | 
In  the  mornins;- 
Lis  house,  exi)e«- 


lA^MiK8    NAKKATlVt. 


Hat 


iDL'.  al  Icasi.  liml  1  slmulil  sltTji  tlicri' ;  liiit  wliou  at  the  approacia 
oi  iiiirlit  I  was  altoul  to  jjo  in,  he  sent  tin-  lilaiiktt  (iiit  to  nii 
(•'i"m  tlin  iiianiicr  in  uhicli  this  was  lionc.  1  knew  if  I  went  iii 
jcr;iiii.  it  would  only  he  to  he  drivfii  out,  ami  I  wt-iit  inimctliatrl)- 
tn  sflcct  a  placi'  to  sU'c|)  in  tju-  woods  at  a  liltic  (listaiicf.  liul 
Ml.  Hrucr,  lite  interprt'lor  wlunn  I  liavi'  het'orc  iiuntioiird,  saw 
mi',  and  calliiii^  nu  into  his  liiiluc,  iiuilni  me  (o  remain,  and 
while  1  liid  so,  treated  nie  in  the  most  iVieiullv  and  liospiuihle 
iiianner.  Knowing  that  I  had  no  reason  to  expect  any  assistance 
I'roin  Mr.  Clark,  v,  ho  was  soon  to  leave  the  eountry,  I  went  to 
('a|)lnin  hiilt^cr,  ilu'  military  ronuiiandant,  to  stale  my  biisincHs, 
:iii(I  received  from  him  a  nuist  attentive  and  tViendly  liearini^. 
Iiiunediately  on  my  calliiiix  l<*  ^^K'  hinu  he  a-^ked  mv  where  1  had 
sji  jtt.  as  he  knew  ihat  I  had  arrived  the  <lay  helore.  When  he 
liiard  lliat  I  had  l>een  refused  a  lodjjinii  in  the  tradiiif^  house,  he 
invited  me  to  eoine  and  eat  with  him,  and  sloop  in  his  honso  as 
Idiiir  as  I  slioidd  remain  there.  Me  knew  of  my  business  to  the 
riniiilry,  and  a.-.ked  me  if  1  eotdil  tell  where  my  children  were. 
I  liad  uscorlained  that  they  were  vvitli  iho  Indians  about  tlie 
Cnirie  Poriajic. 

Some  Indians  aliout  the  Fort,  told  mo  tliat  those  of  the  band 
vith  vvhont  my  childrou  were,  had  heard  of  my  arrival,  and  wore 
•ictrrmined  to  kill  me  if  I  slwndd  attempt  to  take  nty  cliihlron 
from  them.  Nevertheless,  I  visited  that  band  as  soon  as  I  oouUi 
make  the  journoy,  and  went  into  the  h)dt;o  of  tho  principal  chief, 
wlio  treated  luv  kindly.  I  remained  some  time,  always  staying 
II  ihe  lodge  with  my  children,  who  appeared  pleased  to  see  me; 
liiit  I  easily  discovered  that  it  was  by  no  nu-ans  tho  intention  of 
;!ir  Indians  to  siilVer  me  to  take  them  away.  (iiah-<ro-wa-go-mo, 
Jic  man  who  had  lon<f  bofor<'  stolen  away  my  son.  and  whom  I 
!ia(l  been  compelled  to  beat,  as  well  as  to  kill  his  horse,  now 
treated  mo  with  some  insolence,  and  threatened  even  to  lako  my 
iilp.  I  said  to  him,  "  if  yon  had  been  a  man,  yon  would  have 
killed  nto  lonuf  a^o,  instead  of  now  threateninir  mo.  I  have  no 
uar  of  you."  But  beinu  entirely  alone,  I  coidd  accomplish  no 
more  at  present,  than  to  induce  the  band  to  remove,  and  encamp 
mar  the  fort  al  iled  liiver.  This  was  a  considorablo  journey, 
and  on  all  of  it,  my  children  and  myself  wore  made  to  carry  heavy 
htirlhen?.  and  were  treated  like  slaves.  They  did  not  indeed  give 


i 


fi.  '^^ 

•> 

N; 

•   f   ; 

)iA- 

.w 

tt^ 


*lf\H 


I  VNM:K  S    .NAKHAIU  I. 


^,       1- 


Ur»- 


//  If 


h 


Wi 


»* 


me 


a  luad  to  car>'\,  h\il  tlirv  were  (arcliil  >o   liir  to  ovorloml 


ni\ 


thililiTii,  thai  wliri.  I  hail  taken  as  imicli  as  I  cdiild  move  iiiiilcr, 
tlicH'  Merc  licavv  l(»a(ls  In.  '-ir  ilicin.  Aricrlhcy  liad  (•iicaiiipnl 
near  llic  toil.  I  asked  tliem  tor  my  eliildn  ii.  iuit  llicy  iitteily  ir- 
I'uMcd  to  jrive  lliem  up.  (Jiali-L'-c-wa-Lro-iiio  uas  the  |triiiei|)ul  man 
ulio  was  ai  live  in  resisliiifr  me.  and  with  liiin  tlie  dispute  hii,! 
Siroun  lo  so  o|ten  a  t|narre!.  lliat  I  was  al>nin  to  proet  ed  lo  vio- 
leiil  measures,  but  I  Ik  tliiMijIit  me  tiiat  I  should  do  \vron<>;  lu  ii|. 
tempt  to  shed  bhuxl  uiihout  fir.sl  niakinir  my  intention  known  t.< 


a  plain 


liuL' 


er,   ulio 


had 


oxpresst'd    so   much    iVicndly  lee 


towards    me.      i  went    accordiuulv,  and    ndd    him    mv  siiiiaiin 


II. 


aiul  tliai  I  was  now  convinced  I  ctudd  nol  lake  my  cnildren  with 
out  ii-'mfi  viidcut  measurer- wilh  (iiah-i>e-Ma-t;o-iii  •.    He  approvci 


of  mv 


hav 


iniT 


told 


mm  w 


ha  I 


was  ahout  lo  d 


ami   iinmei 


!i:iliK 


scnl  Mr.  Hrucr  to  call  mv  children  into  ihc  lurt.  'ri\e\  camc;i.'. 
cordluiil',,  ami  stood  helorc  his  house,  i)iit  will)  tenor  twelve!:] 
tiiuns  accompany  in:(  ihem.  and  who  were  caretiil  Id  stand  iii;i 
hy  on  each  siile  oi  lliein.  ilaxiiiir  pointed  out  my  children  ; 
him,  the  captain  direcled  his  scrv  ar  t  lo  leed  ihem.  Sometliiiii 
uns  accoriliiiiily  lirouiihl  Irnin  his  own  lahle,  he  havino  just  ilm 
rat<*n,  ntid  uiven  lo  ihem:  hul  the  imlian>  immedjalely  -^iiahlin 
It  away,  hiuini!'  them  not  a  luoullilnl.  A  lual  oi'  hread  was  ihci 
?>rontfhl.  Iiiit  il  went  in  the  same  way.  not  a  particle  ot  it  hcin. 
li'fl  lo  thiin.     Captain    Hidiicr  now    direcled  a  store  house  hi  lir 


opencil.  am 


)    lol 


(1    me    to   uo    m   ami  )rel  Ihem    -oim  tluiiir  in  r..] 


th 


I'indiii^Mln  re  simie  hai.'- <>|  pemtmcan,  I  look  the  liall  o|  ii;m 
ithout  twenly  pimmls.  and  makimr  tlieiii  sit  ihtwii.  ull  purtdnj. 
•  It'  it. 

'I'lu-  Indians  refused  the  children  lo  the  (h'luand  of  ('apt,  Hul 
<rer,  as  ihey  had  done  to  me;  hut  next  dav  he  called  all  the  prin 
cijiiil  men,  and  amont;  others  tiiah-iic-wa-iro-mo,  to  come  aini 
cutim-jl  with  him.  The  chief  man  of  the  hand  was  very  williii<' 
liuit  I  should  take  away  the  children,  and  when  we  all  weiii  inir 
ilu'ccnmcil  room,  he  inok  a  seal  with  r'aplain  Hulirer  aiul  my>rli, 
iherehy  placing;  the  lour  men  who  were  primipailv  active  in  ilr 
lainiiiiT  tiieni,  in  the  situaiioti  ot  persons  who  were  Hciing  in  o|ifi\ 
c(»ntrnvenlion  to  Iuh  wixlien. 

I'rPii'iilf  to  tlip  amuiiiit  ol'  ubont  on«  imiidrrtl  dollars  in  vnhir. 


*v-j 


90-91 


-^ 


JANNkRil    AAnKAIUi::. 


\niy 


orloail  i\i\ 
lovc  iiiiilcr, 

I  turaiMpi'd 
iitWily  n  • 

'ni('i|)ul  niiiii 
dispute  liiiil 
[•I'l'tl  l<»  vio- 

III  Umi>\\ii  t ' 
iidly  t"(Tlii\', 
nv  sium>i<m. 
iiildrcn  with- 
III-  :i|ipriivni 

iiiiiiu'di  111  U 
'li.'N  camt;!- 
(.I-  iwtdvcln 

II  slan'l   WW 

IV  rliildnii  1 

.     SoliH'thini 

viiiu  i"!*'  'I'll 
,tcl\  <na1(lnM 
nad  was  \\u\ 
lie  til  it  liciii. 
•V  \w\iM'  <"  III" 
tiling  Id  r;ii 
hall't'l  "'I' 
all    pailoi'l' 

.1  ('ap'-  '*"' 
I  all  lii«'pnii- 
til   coiiif  am' 

vrr>  williM" 
all  MflU  nil' 
1  and  myxli. 

artivr  in  tl<' 
atiiii^  in  oprn 

dlaru  in  valnr. 


were  brou<rlit  in.  and  plarcd  on   ilic  lloor  betwcpii  the  two  par- 
;iud.     Caplaiii  Hnlt^cr  llicn  >:iid  to  tin'  lndian(<: 

"My  cliiMrcM.  I  iiavi*  canscd  to  lie  placed  Ik  fori'  yon  here,  a 
jiipc  lull  of  tiiliacco.  uol  lu'rausc  I  am  willing  to  lia\»'  you  siij)- 
•(tosc  1  <\iiul'l  piirclia«i('  (Voui  vcnia  liLilit  I'T  tliis  ui;in  tocorncuud 


lake  what  is  his  own.  hut  ti 


;ii!l\    lo  Villi,  liiai  I  ..(ill    Imld  vol! 


by  the  liaiiil.  as  Iuml'  as  vi.ii  are  icaily   to  li-irii  aiUuiiM'ls   lo  my 
\Mnds.      As  lor  tl!i.>  miiii.  he  comes  to    vou  iml  iii  hi-,  own  iiainr> 


oiilv,  and  speMKiiiy 


hi^ 


OV\ll    WOl'i 


bill  li 


<p 


iks    tl 


10  w  orils  lit 


\oiir  irrea 


I    lath 


'1  -It.  Ill  M  lliwc  ll;i||ii  ue  a 


M  ho  is   li 


•  nd    ll 


If  « 


aiers,   and  ot    ihe  (ireal 


and  w  bo  c;av  •'  llie-e  i 


iiih 


ren  to 


hi   hi>.      Voii  mnsi,  iherefore.  uillioul  viiiliirinir  lo  j;ive 


him 


my 


t'arlber  trouble,  deliver  to  'liin  his  rhildron,  ami  take  lliese  jire- 
-'eiils,  as  a  memorial  of  llie  iroml  will  iliat  subsist-  bf  twee  n  us.'" 
The  liidiaiiA  b(<^aii  to  delibi  rate,  and  were  aboiii  to  make  a 
reply,  vvlieii  tliey  saw  a  considerable  armed  (orcr  briuiiibl  am! 
(laradeil  bclore  the  door  ol  the  coir.iei!  house,  and  lindin(j;  them- 
I  l\es  romplelt  Iv  surrounded,  iliey  accepted  the  pres<  iits,  and 
jirtunised  to  surrender  the  children. 


he  mother  o 


d    tl 


lese  ( 


liild 


ren  was  no\r  an  oM  \\  inn.-in.  ami  as 


•  ho  said  she  wislud  lo  accompany  tlnin,  I  readily  r-oiiscnlrt 
The  buy.  who  uas  o(  "iiii-  to  »,•{  (up  himself,  prelerred  to  remain 
anioii>>  the  Indian-",  and  as  ibe  linu  lor  L^ivinu  liiin  an  eduealion, 
am!  Iitlin<r  him  to  live  m  any  otln  r  maniiei  thin  .ts  the  imlian> 
do,  bad  passed,  I  conscnied  he  '.hoidd  act  a^  be  llioiiolii  best. 
Several  Indians  accompanied  lis  lour  days'  journey  on  tmr  re- 
liirn,  ihen  all  went  bai  k,  eMcpl  my  iwo  danulilers  and  their 
mollier. 

I  did  not  retmn  lo  ihe  hake  o|  ilie  WooiU  by  the  \\a\  oT  ihr 
Me-mvi-o-inis-ko  Se-be,  but  cbuse  aiiolher  route,  in  whi.li  I  had 
lo  lra\el  a  part  ol'  the  way  by  wiiler,  a  part  b*  land.  In  asci ml- 
iul'  iIu  Had  Kivcr.  there  is  a  sli.'rt  road  by  what  is  called  Stiir- 
j:eoii  Uiver,  iiml  a  jiorlaue  lo  coincauaiii  into  ihi;  principal  river. 
Not  liir  I'rom  the  moiiili  of  Siiirjieon  Uiver  was.  at  ihis  lime,  an 
I  IK  iimpiiinit.  or  villaur,  ol'  six  or  seven  Indues,  .\  yoiniL'  mnii 
Iiclonirin;.'  to  (hat  baml.  and  whose  name  v\as  Ome-zhuli-uwiit- 
onus,  had  noi  lontr  prrvious  lo  llijx  been  whipped  bv  Mi.  Cole, 
/'or  Hoiiir  real  or  alletred  misromiucl  about  the  Irnding-houtip. 
>w\  ferlinii  di'SBlislied.  he  wlien  )ie  heard  1  liad  pBH^ed  up  Stur- 


*'K' 


/. 


-X  •- 


l,i 


>» 


y70 


lANNKR  U    NARRATIM.. 


/( 


i  I 


It 


a 


gcon  Rivrr,  started  alii  r  iiii'  in  his  liilli-  fanoi*,  iind  soon  ovcr^ 
Uiiik  inc.  After  lir  had  |oiiinl  nu  .  h<-  showed,  i  thought,  an  imii- 
biial  dis|)()>iti(in  to  talk  lo  nir,  and  rlaiimd  to  lie,  in  sonu'  man- 
ner, rehiled  to  nic.  lie  en<'ain|Hil  wiih  ii«  that  niuhi,  an<l  the 
UCXl  inoi'iiinir  we  started  (»n  loijelher.      '11 


ns  day.  when  we  slop, 
jx'd,  and  \\ei-e  resting  on  -hnre,  I  n"lifed  ihai  he  look  an  opjior- 
Uuiily  lo  meet  one  of  my  daiii;liier>  in  tlie  l>nsh<s ;  hiil  she  re- 
turned nninediatelv,  sonieuhal  a^ilaied.  Her  inollier.  also,  was 
(sexeral  (inns,  ni  llu'  loiirse  ol  ihr  day.  in  ehise  conversaticm 
with  her;  liei  ihr  \ouni:  woman  emitiniied  sad,  and  was  several 
times  eryinii- 

Ai  niiihi.  afler  we  slo|>|;ed  to  enran\|>,  (he  \  onnjj  man  very 
soon  h'll  ns  ;  hii(  .i>  lie  renianied  at  a  liiile  distance,  appaieully 
iniirh  liiisied  ahinn  somelhin<r,  I  went  and  (onnd  him  with  his 
inedieincs  ,ill  (({icned  alii  nl  liiin,  and  he  was  iiiseriinir  a  thon^' 
of  deer's  .sinew,  alioni  li\i    inches  in  len>rih,  inloa  hnllel.      i  said 


(o  linn,  ' 
<fiv(  11  mi 


M 


ill 


\   iirollKi 


III 


I  lor  1 1 


ll:<      W 


a>  (he    name    he  had    hinis<'|t 


if  \  on  want  powder,  or 


halh 


Its,  I  h 


ave 


|>len 


i\ ,  aiiil  w  ill  iine   \  on  a- 


nnch   as  \  on  wish. 


Ih 


suiil 


thai 


wa' 


also  Ii;id  plenty,  and  I  lell  hiin  and  returned  to  camp.  Il 
siniu-  time  hefore  he  came  in:  when  at  la>t  In-  made  his  appear- 
ance, he  was  dressed  and  oiiiamented  as  a  warrior  tor  Imtlle.  He 
I  (Mitinned.  dnrinu:  the  first  part  ot  the  iii;:ht.  to  watth  me  much 
loo  cioselv.  and  ni\  suspicions,  which  had  been  already  excited, 
were  now  more  and  mine  coiifiriiied.  Itiil  he  coiKinneil  to  be 
iis  talkative,  and  lo  seem  as  frienilU  a-  etcr.  Ill'  asked  me  foi 
iiiy  knite,  .is  he  said,  lo  cm  sinni'  (ohaeco,  and  iiwd'ad  ol  redirii- 
imr  il  lo  me.  ^lippe'l  it  into  his  own  hell  ;  hii(  I  lhoiii.'lit,  perliap-. 


lie  won 


hi  n  (nrn  it  to  me  in  the  iiioriiiiijr. 


I  laid  iiivsejf  (low  II  at  ahont  ihe  nsiial  limr,  as  (  wmild  not  np- 
pear  to  suspect  hi'<  inteiiliiin-^.  i  had  noi  put  up  ni\  tent,  linini: 
(Hilv  ihe    lillle    shelter  aliorded    liv  a  piece    ol    painted  cloth  ihal 


I   ch 


Use 


had  heen  <ii^eii  me  ,ii  Ked  Kiver.  VN  hen  I  hi\  down 
>iich  a  pnsiliim  as  would  enahle  me  lo  wad  h  (he  voiiiitf  man's 
motion-.  I  (oiild  set,  a-  he  siii  opposiit  (he  (ire.  (hat  his  e\es 
were  open  ami  waiclHiil.  and  (hat  he  tel(  iio(  (he  least  imdiiialinri 
to  sleep.  NVIien  a(  leimlh  n  llninder  shower  commenced,  he  aji- 
piMireil  more  anximis.niid  i-i-xdeHH  than  before.  When  the  rnin 
IiTffnn  to  fall.  1  Hsketl  him  to  come  and  place  hiinsell'lienr  me.  ^'i 


\     > 


fAXNKR  S    N'ARRATIV  I.. 


•271 


OVt'l* 

I  unu- 
man- 

,(\  ihc 

;'  SlOp- 

■  lio  rc- 

iO,    WHS 

•rsation 
srvi'ral 


Mnr  mo. 


aw  to  fnjoy  the  bcnclil,  of  my  sliollcr,  iiiitl  lie  did  so.    The  shower 
was  very  heavy,   and   entirely  cxtiiiffiiishcii  cnir   lire;  hut  soon 
after  it  had  eeased,  llie  inos(|iiiliies   liccniniiiif  vt-ry  trouhiesoinc, 
Oiiie-zhiih-awut-odiis  ivkiinlied   ii,  iiiid  liicaixititr  oil' a  liraneh  of 
a  l)iish,  he  sal  and  dinxc  iheiii  away  liiiii  nie.      i  was  (•oiisciniis 
tliat  I  ouifhi  iiHi  to  sl(  <|i  ;   Imt  druwsiness  was  j>ainiriir  some  htdd 
on   uw.  when   another   thinider   show  or.    more    vioicnl  th;in  the 
first,  arose.      In  the  inlcrval  nl'  the   showers,   1  hiy  as  one  slecp- 
iii).',  hut  ahiiost  uithoul  uiovinir  or  o|i('nini;  uty  eyes.      I  watched 
ihe  motions  of  the  \iimu_r  man:  at  ime  time,  when  an  uiuisuallv 
h)ud  elap  uf  ihinnhr  alarmed  liim,  Iw  wuuid  throw  a  iiitle  lidiar- 
co  itito  the    fir*',  as  un   olicriiiff ;  at  another,  when  he  seemed   to 
sii))])ose  me   asleep.    I    saw  him  w)ilehin:!ine  like  a  eat  ahoul  to 
sj)rinir  on  its  prey;   hnl  I  did  not  -iiller  ni\  self  lo  sleep. 

II*'  hreakfasted   with  us  as  usual,  then   started   liy  himself,  be- 
fore I  was  tpiile  ready.      My  dautiht«T,  whom   he  had  met  in  the 
liushe.s,  was   miw  a|)|)arently  more   alarmed  ihaii  helore.  and  ah- 
S(dulely   refused    to    enter  the  canoe;   hut    her   mother  was  very 
nnxions  to  i|ni<'t  he.  hi^ilaiion.   and   appartiilly  Ner\  desirous   to 
prevent  my  payiiij;  any  parti<'ulrtr  attitilion  to  her.      Al  lasl.  she 
was  induced  to  aet  into  the  canoe,  and  we  went  o'l.     The  youn^' 
man  kepi  alonu  helore  u",  niu\  .it  a  little  disiimce,  nn'il  alxnil  l.'^ii 
o'ehiek,   wlien,  al  lurnin!.'  a  |>oinl  in  a  dilliculi  ami  rapul  part  t)f 
the  river,  ami  jraininy   a  xiew  of  n  eimsiderahle  retieh  above,  I 
was  snrjtrised  that  (  could  ^ee  neither  him  nor  hi>  eanoe.      Al  this 
place  the  river  is  about  ei(>lil\  \ards  wide,  and  ihtre  is,  about  ten 
yaids  frmn   the  point  before  mentioned,  a  small  island   ol   naked 
rock.      I  had    taketi    oil   my  coal,  and    I    w.is,    with   tire:!!    eUbrt, 
|)Usliintr  lip  my  canoe  auainsi   the  pow*  ritil  curreiil,   which  eom- 
j)elled  me  to  keep  Mrv  m'ai   the  -.iKMe,  when  the  dischiirtre   of  u 
<;im  at   my  siile  airesird  inv  proure>-.      I   heard  .1  bullet   whistle 
pa>t  m\  iiead,  and   lelt  my  side    louched,  at  the    .m  »  iiistanl  thai 
the  pMldle  lell  from  my  ri^'ht  hand,  and  the  ham.     -.elf  dr-ippnl 
powerh'ss  to  my  ride.     The  bushes  were  idtscurrl  Ia  lh<' -.mnko 
of  the  gun,  Init  at  a  seeoiid   look  I  F<nw  (Mne  /.|.un-i;wut-o<MiH  r^- 
rupiiit;.      Al   thai   lime  the  screams  of  my  cliiidren  cirew    ,.e  nt- 
tenlion  to  the  canoe,  and  I  found  every  p.  ri  .1^  it  •.*  ts  heeoininu; 
covcrecJ  with  bhtod.     I  emleavoured,  will,  my  Irfi  hand,  to  pwHJi 
fhA  r.aaor  in  f*lKirr,  that  1  iui|r|il  piir^iir  aficr  him;  but  ihr  fif 


M 


). 


.■r  tr. 


'H'Z 


lANNKR  S    NAKUAllVt.. 


li 


rent  being  too  powerful  for  mo,  took  my  caiioo  on  the  oilui 
side,  and  threw  it  airainsl  the  small  rocky  island  jjelort;  mention- 
ed. 1  now  «r<)t  onl,  pulled  tin-  caiioc  a  little  on  to  the  rock,  with 
my  left  haml,  and  then  made  aii  atl('iii|>t  to  load  my  <run.  l)el'or( 
1  could  liiiish  loailiiiy  i  lainled.  nn  1  Icll  on  the  rock.  When  J 
came  to  niysell'  a;/ain,  I  was  alone  on  ilie  island,  and  the  canoe, 
with  my  (Uiuiihltrs,  wii,s  just  i>(>ini>  oulof  fsitrln  in  the  river  helow 
Soon  alter  it  (Iis.ip|M  nrcd.  I  lainled  a  second  lime;  but  coji 
ficioiisiu'ss  at  Iniiiih  miirnc'l. 

As  1  believed  that  the  man  v  Iio  had  shot  me  was  still  watchinj; 
from  liis  coM<'eiiliMeril,  I  exiiiiiru  J  my  wounds,  and  lindinfi  in\ 
situation  dcspi  r.ilc,  my  ri'^ht  arm  beiiipf  much  shattered,  and  tlii 
l)all  haviii!,'  mti'ri'd  iiiv  body,  in  liu'  direction  to  reach  m\  lnnn<. 
and  not  havin<r  |)as.-<k'd  out,  I  called  to  him,  reiiuestiiiir  him  to 
come,  anil  by  putiinu;  an  immediate  v\u\  to  my  life,  to  release 
me  from  the  pro;ract((!  sulli-rinii  I  had  in  pros|K>ct.  -•  Yon  have 
Uilled  me."  Mill  I;  "'»iit  thun;;h  the  hurl  yon  have  yiven  iiu- musi 
be  inorial.  i  tear  it  may  be  some  lime  belore  I  shall  die.  (!ome. 
therefore,  if  yon  area  man,  am!  shoot  me  atrain."  Many  times) 
called  to  him,  !>,il  hr  rcliirneii  me  no  answer.  My  iiody  wa'^ 
now  almost  naked,  as  I  had  im,  wlnti  .>hoi,  beside  my  pantaloons, 
only  a  very  old  and  rain:eil  shirt,  and  miiili  of  this  had  been  torn 
oil' in  the  course  of  the  morninii;.  i  lay  exposed  to  the  sun,  and 
the  idack  and  irreeii  he.tded  Hies,  on  a  naked  rock,  the  j/reotei 
part  ol  a  day  in  .lidy  it  \ni:iisi,  and  s.in  no  pri.>pecl  before  me. 
hut  that  of  a  liiiiri  rinj;  death  ;  liut  as  tlie  sim  went  down,  my 
hope  and  strenL'th  bei.'aii  to  ri".  ive.  and  plniiuinir  into  the  river. 
}  ^u.iin  across  in  the  other  <idi'.  W  hen  I  reached  the  shore,  \ 
I'oiild  stand  on  my  lict,  and  i  raised  the  sas-sali-kwi,  or  win 
whoop,  as  ;i  civ  ol  exultation  and  deiiancc  to  my  enemy.  Dii' 
th(!  additional  loss  of  Idood,  occasioned  b\  the  excriioii  in  swim 
ininjr  the  river,  raiised  me  anotlier  fiiiiitiiitr  lit,  Iroiii  which.  «hen 
f  recoxerid,  I  coiicealed  myself  near  the  bank,  lo  ualch  for  him 
Presently  I  sav,  <hiii-/.hiili-irwut-nons  citine  from  his  liiditiL 
place,  put  his  canoe  into  the  water,  embark,  and  begin  to  d«'Heeiid 
the  ri\er.  lie  caincvery  m-ar  inv  hidiiit!  phu'C,  and  I  fell  te!n[< 
ed  to  make  n  s|irini;,  and  i  tidea.onr  to  sei/.e  and  straimic  him  ii^ 
the  water;  but  I'l  arintf  ;hal  my  siren^'th  miuht  not  Ite  eullirieni, 
I  'el  him  pa«i  without  tliscovrrinc  myself. 


i 


r0Sammm^0' 


i\SSk,U  S     NAKKAllV  I.. 


'^T3 


oilui 
miun- 
,  wilh 

hen  1 

cunoc. 

ruchiuu 

ami  tht- 
ly  liiiia;'. 
;  liim  to 

r'lui  liiivc 
1  iMi'iniiJ-i 
t'onio. 
ly  limosl 
body  wit" 
niUiilocn'- 
borntdvii 
V  sun,  nn«i 

t„.    iriH-alOl 

i,i>('itrt'  \w- 
|(l.)\v\i.  m\ 

till  river. 
ir  shore,   * 

1.    or  w:i 

L  hi  Kwim 
lliiili.  wln'ii 
1,  tor  hiiK 
lliis    liiiiii '. 
to  il»';»<-oiit 
I,  It  UMlip' 
ii,ilt'  l>i»"  '" 
siilVirioi'. 


I  M'iis  MOW  lovinciilod  with  iho  must  •■xccssivT  thivfit,  and  as 
the  bunk  was  steep  iind  rocky,  I  eoidd  not,  w  iih  my  wounded 
arm,  lie  down  to  drink.  I  was  therefore  eompeUed  to  go  into 
file  water,  au«l  let  my  body  down  inio  it,  iiMtiJ  I  broujflit  my 
iiioulh  to  a  level  wilh  ihe  surlaee.  and  thus  I  was  able  to  drink. 
Hy  this  tune,  the  cveniny  i.ndwiiij<  soiiicwhal  cooler,  nn  strength 
was,  in  part,  restored  ;  but  the  blood  seemed  to  (low  nu)re  freely. 
1  nuw  ap|)lied  mysril  to  dressiiiir  the  wound  in  my  arms.  I  en- 
deavoured, tlnuiiih  tiie  tlesh  was  already  imudi  swollen,  to  re^ 
plaee  the  I'raunu  ills  ol'  the  bone  ;  to  accomplish  which.  I  lore, 
in  strips  the  remainder  of  niv  shirt,  and  will)  my  leeih  and  my 
left  hand  I  ccmlrived  to  lie  tli<se  around  my  arm,  at  first  loosely, 
but  by  dejrrees  tiirhter  and  tJLditer.  iiniil  I  thouehl  il  had  assumed. 
as  nearly  as  I  could  Li^ive  il.  the  pro|)er  form.  I  ihcii  lied  on 
small  slicks,  whicii  I  broke  from  the  blanches  of  trees,  to  serve 
as  splints,  and  then  suspended  my  hand  in  a  siriiit{,  which 
passed  arouiul  my  neck.  After  this  was  emnpleted,  I  took  sonie 
of  the  bar!  of  a  choke  cherry  bush,  whicli  1  observed  there,  and 
chewini:  it  fine  applied  it  to  ihe  uoimds.  hopiii<>- Ihiis  to  chock 
iheflowiiiir  ol  the  Ijlood.  Tlie  bnslio  .dtoiii  me,  and  for  all  the 
(listance  between  me  tiid  ihe  ri\er.  wen  covered  with  blood. 
As  niirht  came  <»ii,  I  chose  a  place  where  was  piLiily  of  moss,  l<i 
lie  down  on,  wilh  the  Iriiiik  of  a  fallen  iree  for  my  pillow.  \ 
wa>  careful  to  select  a  place  near  the  ri\er,  that  I  miffht  have  a 
thance  <if  seeinir  any  ihinu  ihal  iniirhl  pass;  also,  lobe  near  the 
water  in  case  mv  thirst  should  ajrain  become  uryoiit.  I  knew 
lliat  oiu-  trader's  canoe  was  expected,  aluuit  this  lime,  to  pass  this 
place,  on  the  way  towards  l*ed  Hiver.  and  il  was  this  canoe 
frtun  which  I  vxpecled  relief  and  assislaiK  e.  'i'liere  were  no  In- 
dians nearer  than  the  villa<;«'  from  which  Onu'-zhuh-jrwul-oons 
had  followed  me,  and  he,  with  m\  wife  and  daiiirhters,  were  the 
only  persons  that  I  hud  any  reu.soi:  to  su|>poRr  w«'re  within  many 
milc'*  (d  me 

I  I'lid  myself  down,  and  prayed  to  ihe  firoat  Spirit,  that  hr 
wmiid  sec  and  pity  my  condition,  and  send  help  to  inc,  now  in 
ihc  time  of  my  distress.  \n  I  continued  prayinir,  thr  mu8(|ui' 
foes,  which  had  settled  on  my  naked  body  in  vast  luimherR,  and 
wcrp.  by  their  slii;ir^,  adding  greatly  to  the  torment  I  suflVicd, 
htgan  to  rire,  and  nftrr  huvcring  at  a  little  dietancc  «bove  i  ntl 

» 


:.\ 


0^:iT 


•^4 


I'ANNKR  M    NAKRA'llVl,. 


.1 


around  me,  disappeared  entirely.  1  did  not  attribute  this,  which 
was  so  great  a  relief,  to  the  inimediato  interposition  of  a  Sui)crior 
Power,  in  answer  to  my  prayer,  as  the  evening  was,  at  that  time, 
becoming  something  cool,  and  I  knew  it  was  entirely  the  effect 
of  change  of  temj)erature.  Nevertheless,  I  was  conscious,  as  I 
have  ever  been  in  times  of  distress  and  of  danger,  that  the  Master 
of  my  life,  though  invisible,  wad  yet  near,  and  was  looking  upon 
me.  I  slept  easily  and  quielly,  but  not  without  interru|)ti(in. 
Every  time  I  auoke,  f  re!nenil)ered  to  have  seen,  in  my  dream,  u 
canoe  with  white  men,  in  the  river  heforc  me. 

It  was  late  in  thr  nii'lit,  probably  aiier  midnight,  when  I  henni 
female  voices,  wlvrli  I  sup|)08ed  to  be  those  of  my  daughters,  not 
more  than  two  humlred  yards  from  me,  hut  partly  acr(»ss  th<' 
river.  Ibelieved  tliiit  Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons  had  discovfred  iheii 
hiding  place,  and  was,  perhaps,  olli-i  ing  tli<in  some  violence,  ti- 
the cry  was  that  of  distress  ;  but  ho  great  was  my  weakness, 
that  the  attempt  to  afford  them  any  relief  seemed  wholly  beytmu 
my  power.  I  learniMl  afterwar';.,  that  my  cMldrt'o,  as  soon  as  I 
fainted  and  fell  on  the  rook,  ^iijUHisinsf  me  deail,  had  been  in 
flufuccd  by  their  mother  to  turn  thr  ranue  d<isvn  tin;  riv<'r,  ami 
exert  themselves  to  make  their  escaj;*-.  They  had  noi  pro- 
ceeded far,  when  the  woman  steer-jd  the  canof  into  a  low  point 
of  bushes,  av  1  threw  out  my  m  i,  and  some  otht-r  articles.  Th< ; 
then  ran  on  a  consit'craM*^  listnncc,  and  coiucaled  themselves: 
but  here  it  occurred  to  the  woman,  that  she  might  have  done  bet- 
ter to  have  kept  the  property  belonging  to  m*;,  and  aecordinul- 
returned  to  get  it.  It  was  wIh'h  ihey  carne  to  se  '  thjsi^  thin*; 
lying  on  the  shore,  that  tlie  child.' ii  burst  out  crying,  t'nd  ii  v,a 
at  this  time  that  1  heanl  them. 

Bef»»re  ten  o'clock  next  morning,  I  heard  human  voices  on  tie 
river  above  me,  ami  from  the  situation  I  had  chos<n,  1  could  m-i 
n  canoe  coming,  like  (hat  I  had  seen  in  my  dreian,  Joatietl  uii!, 
white  nu>n.  Tiny  landed  it  a  lillle  distance  aiiove  nu",  and  hi 
gan  to  make  preparation^  for  breakfast.  I  knew  that  this  wa 
the  canoe  belonging  to  Mr.  Stewart,  of  the  ilndsmi's  Hay  Com- 
pany, who,  together  with  Mr.  (irant.  was  expected  about  itii* 
time;  and  being  conscious  ibut  niv  appearance  wtndd  make  .: 
pair  '  impreHsion  upon  them,  1  deternuned  to  wait  until  they 
had  breajifasied,  before  1  ahowcd  myself  to  thrai.     After  ihr 


|.  ■ 


/    ^, 


I'ANNUHii    NARRMIVE. 


»/U 


which 
ipcrior 
it  tunc, 
c  cfl'ect 
us,  as  I 
Mas  lev 
n&  "pou 
•ruption- 
ilveuiu,  •». 

n  I  hcaru 
htcra.  not 
icros!*  ih'' 

Lilfnc«s  »" 

lly   l)Cy(»lH! 

^  soon  as^  I 
a  Itpcn  in- 
i,  v\M't,  am' 
1(1  noi  pro- 
a  low  poii^i 

. 
.11 


H< 


u'lnrtiAve.-  ^ 
,.  ,lnl\.'  hpt- 

orilins*": 
Vlv-hr  thini; 

iMul  il  ^'•» 


uicJ-s  on  til' 

llml  l»>if  ^^'' 
•^  Hay  Com- 

v(l  iiboul  llii- 

uil  until  lln-y 
\lier  iltf 


Ik 


liati  taieu,  ami  put  llieir  can(»e  again  in  tlic  water,  i  wailed  out  a 
little  distance  into  llie  river,  to  attract  tlioir  attention.  As  soon 
iis  they  saw  me,  the  Frenclinien  ceased  paddlinjj,  and  lliey  all 
td£ei\  at  me,  a.s  if  in  dotibt  and  amazeiuent.  As  the  current  oi" 
die  river  was  carryinir  tliem  rapidly  jm.sl  nie,  and  my  repeated 
calls,  in  the  Indian  iangua<;e,  seemed  to  )>roduce  no  etlect,  I 
called  Mr.  Stewart  by  name,  and  s|ioke  a  tew  words  of  p^nglish, 
which  I  could  command,  ref)iR^sling  iheni  to  come  and  take  me. 
In  a  nH)nient  their  paddles  were  in  the  water,  and  they  bri  light 
llie  canoe  so  near  where  i  stood,  that  I  was  able  to  gvl  into  it. 

No  on(!  in  the  canoe  recognised  me,  though  Mr.  Stewart  and 
Mr.  (irant  were  both  well  known  to  me.  I  had  not  been  able  to 
wash  the  blood  <»H  my  body,  and  it  is  probable  that  the  suH'eiing 
t  had  untlergoi'c,  hud  much  changed  my  appearance.  They 
were  very  eager  and  rapid  in  their  inquiries,  ami  soon  ascertained 
who  I  was,  and  also  became  ac()nainted  wlh  the  principnl  tacts 
I  have  related.     They  made  a  bed  !'or  me  in   the  canoe,  and  at 

oy  urgent  recpiest  w»iit  to  search  (or  my  children,  in  the  direc- 
tion where  1  had  heard  tluin  crying,  and  where  I  told  ihnn  I 
feared  \vc  should  lind  ihev  had  been  murdered  ;  but  we  sought 
here,  and  in  other  plans,  to  nt)  purpose. 

llavinii  ascertiiii.(  d  who  it  was  that  had  woimded  me,  these  two 
naders  agreed  to  lake  me  immediately  to  the  village  ol"  (Mne- 
zhvdi-ifW\it-oons,  anil  they  were  determined,  in  case  of  discover- 
ing and  taking  him,  to  aid  me  in  taking  my  revenge,  by  putting 
riim  innneilialiK  to  death.     They  therefore  concealed  me  in  the 

aiMie,  and  jit  iandiiiir  near  the  Indues,  an  old  man  cam  ■  down 
',o  the  shore,  and  askerl  them,   "  what  was  the  news  in  the  coun- 

rv  they  cai?ie  from  ?"  '*  All  is  well  there,"  answered  Mr.  Stew- 
aii;  "  \\v  have  no  oth' =•  news."  "This  is  the  manner,"  said 
the  tdd  iJ^an,  "  in  which  white  people  always  treat  us.  i  know 
very  well  soinethini:  has  happeneil  in  the  countrv  you  have  come 
frtnn.  bol  vuu  Mill  not  tell  iisoi  it.  ()me-zhuh-ifwul-o.>ns,  one  ol" 
our  vouiiii  men,  has  been  tip  the  ri\er  two  or  three  days,  and  he 
tells  us  that  the  Long  Knife,  railed  Shaw-shaw-wa-ne-ba-se,  (the 

falcon.)  w  lio  passed  here  a  fiu  da\>*  sinc«'.  with  his  wife  an<t  rhil- 
iir<'n,  has  murdered  them  all  ;   bii'      am  learfnl  that  he  himsrlf  f»«* 

heiMii!oiiii>somethiiiu:wronLr.  tor  he  is  watchful  andr^<tie»ii,  and  Hm 

lUst  fled  from  this  place  before  vou  arrived."    Mr.  Stewart  and  Mr. 


'-»»(? 


iahnkr'k  NABRVnVt., 


i  i 


i     J  ■ 


:■>       1 


Grant,  notwithstanding  this  representation,  sought  for  him  in  ali 
the  lodges,  and  when  convinced  that  he  had  indeed  gone,  .said 
to  the  ohi  man,  "  It  is  very  true  that  miscluef  ima  been  done  in 
the  country  we  come  from ;  hut  the  man  whom  ()me-zhnh-|/wut- 
oons  attempted  to  iiill,  is  in  our  canoe  with  us;  we  do  not  yet 
know  whether  he  will  live  or  die."  They  then  showed  me  to 
the  Indians,  who  had  gathered  on  the  shore. 

We  now  took  a  little  time  to  refresh  ourselves,  and  to  examine 
my  wounds.  Finding  that  the  hall  had  entered  my  hody,  iiiiine- 
diatclv  undir  ilie  hroki-ii  part  of  uiy  arm,  and  gone  forward  and 
lodued  against  the  hreasi  hone,  I  tried  to  persuade  Vlr.  (trant  to 
cut  it  out;  but  ncitlur  lie  nor  Mr.  Stewart  being  willing  to  make 
the  atteni|)t,  I  was  roin|><'iled  to  do  it  myself,  as  well  as  I  roiild, 
with  my  Irfl  hand.  A  lanct-t,  w  lii(  h  Mr.  (irant  lent  ini-,  wa** 
broken  innncdiatcly,  as  was  a  pen  knilc,  the  tlisli  ol  that  |>art  of 
the  body  being  very  hard  aiul  touirli.  Thev  next  brought  me  u 
large  white  handled  ra/nr,  and  mIiIi  this  I  suceeeded  in  extract 
ing  the  ball.  It  was  M'r\  mm  ii  ll;iii(  iicd.  and  ilie  ihoin!  of  lierr'^ 
t'inew,  as  ««'llas  ihe  medicines  tMnc-zboii-iiwiu-nons  lunl  ins(  ried 
in  it,  were  left  in  my  body.  Moiwiflisiaiidinir  this,  when  I  found 
that  it  had  intl  passed  nniler  my  rd>s.  I  began  tu  hope  that  I 
should  finall\  recover,  thoiiirli  I  had  reason  to  suppose,  that  lln 
woinid  brinu  poisoned,  il  would  lie  Ioiil''  in  lii'alin<r. 

Alter  litis  was  done,  and  the  wound  in  my  breast  taken  care 
of,  we  went  on  to  Ab-kee-ko-bow-we-tig,  (the  Kettle  i'".il|,)  to 
the  villa>re  of  the  chief  NVaw-wisli-e-irab-lio,  the  lirnilier  of  Omr 
/ludi-gwiil-Mons.  Here  Mr.  Stewart  used  the  sai  .e  precaution 
of  hiiiinu  me  in  the  canoe,  and  then  trivin<r  tobacco,  wh.  h  In 
called  every  man  in  the  villatre,  by  name,  lo  receive;  but  when 
there  appeared  no  prospect  of  fMidinii  birn,  tliev  m.idc  me  airain 
stand  up  in  the  canoe,  and  <uu>  of  llieni  told  the  chief  that  il  was 
his  own  brother  who  had  atleinpli'd  to  kill  ine.  The  cbiel' hini! 
his  head,  and  to  iheir  int|uirii's  abnnt  Ome-zhnli-irwut-oons  be 
wotdd  make  mt  answer.  We,  however,  ascertained  l.om  other 
Indians,  that  my  daut^hlers  and  their  nioiber  had  stopped  here  a 
moment,  in  their  way  towards  l{ainv  Lake. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  North  NN  est  ("ompanv's  house,  al 
Rainy  Lake,  we  f'lmid  that  m\  dauL^liters  and  their  mother  had 
b^fln  detained  hv  the  traders,   on  acoounl  of  su8])iciuns  arisuiu 


friendly 


f       ( 


■iMM 


lANNKRH    NAKRATMK. 


a77 


I  in  all 

c,  i^aid 
lone  in 
i-jrwut- 
nol  yet 
I  me  to 

pxamiuc 
',  iiiiinc- 

liraiil  to 
to  inukc 
1  I  couWl, 
„„•,  wa« 
It  |)nrt  •>!' 
mill  iiK'  "^ 
n  rMiiirt 

.'.  ins(  rted 
(Ml  1  I'tuind 
ope  ilr.it  • 
<o,  ihutlh- 

lakon  ravo 
I..  i'MI.)  <«' 

piTClHllillll 

wli,  h  lu 

l)iit  •.vlini 

.■  me  ;iL'iiiii 

that  it  >*•'> 

llt-llOII')     ll*! 
I,    lltl  oiluf 

iptil  here  II 

IS  liovme,  at 
jiuiiilier  liail 
Ions  ari»ii>i> 


Irom  their  manifest  aifitation  and  (error,  and  iVom  the  know- 
ledge tlial  I  had  pas.srd  nj)  with  th«  ni  l)ul  a  t'tw  da\s  before. 
Now,  when  I  lir«t  eanie  in  sitjht  of  tlie  fori,  the  old  woman  lied 
to  the  woods,  takinir  the  two  jrirls  with  her.  But  the  (Compa- 
ny's people  sent  out  and  brought  them  in  airaiii.  Mr.  Stewart 
and  Mr.  (iranl  now  left  it  to  me  to  say  what  puiiishmeni  siiould 
beinflieted  on  this  woman,  who,  as  we  all  very  well  knew,  had 
been  guilty  of  aiding  in  an  attempt  to  kill  me.  They  said  they 
considered  her  C(|ualiy  criminal  with  Ome-zhuh-gwut-oons,  and 
thought  her  deserving  of  death,  or  any  other  punishment  I  might 
wish  to  see  inflicted.  Hut  I  told  them  I  wished  she  might  i>e  sent 
immediately,  and  without  any  provisions,  away  from  tiie  fort, 
an"!  never  allowed  to  return  to  it.  As  she  was  ihe  mother  of  my 
chiiilrcH,  I  did  not  wish  to  see  her  hung,  or  beaten  to  death  by  the 
labourers,  as  ihey  proposed;  but  as  the  sight  of  her  had  beeome 
Iiaieful  to  me,  I  wished  she  might  be  removed,  and  they  accord- 
ingly dismissed  her  without  any  punishment. 

Mr.  Stewart  left  me  at  the  Rainy  Lake  trading  house,  in  the 
■•are  oi  Simon  M'dillevray,  a  son  of  him  who  many  years  ago 
was  so  important  a  partner  in  the  North  West  ('ompany.  Ho 
(ravi-  me  a  small  room,  where  my  daughters  cooked  J'or  me,  and 
ilres'ied  my  wounds.  I  was  very  weak,  and  my  arm  badly  swol- 
Vn,  fragments  of  lione  eomiiig  out  from  time  to  lime.  I  had  lain 
liere  Iwi  iily-<'iirlit  days,  w  lien  Major  Delalield,  the  Ihiited  States 
i-onuni><si(»ner  fiu'  the  iiomidary,  came  to  the  trading  house,  and 
having  heard  something  of  my  history,  proposed  to  l)ring  me  in 
ills  canoe  to  Mackinac.  Ibii  I  was  loo  weak  to  midertake  such  a 
JDUrnex ,  thouirii  I  \\islit"!  to  have  accompanied  hini.  I'indin^' 
lliiit  tliis  was  llie  cise,  Miijiir  Deialielci  oa»('  nie  a  larjre  suppl\  of 
ixceiieiit  pr(»visions,  two  pounds  o|  tea,  some  siiijar  and  other  ar- 
ticle^. ■■<  li'Ml.     lid  soiiif  i-l'ihiiiLT.  iUiil  li'l't  me. 

Two  days  after  this.  I  pulled  oui  of  m\  iiriii  the  llioiia  ()f  deer's 
sinew  wliitli  had  liet  n  atiiiclied,  as  i  have  belorr  staled,  to  the 
huliel.  it  was  still  ahutit  ti\e  inches  lono,  bin  nearly  as  large  ns 
my  linger,  and  of  a  ur»'eii  colour.  ()ine-zluili-ir«iit-tii»iis  had  two 
Imlls  ill  his  gun  at  the  lime  he  >liot  ine ;  mie  had  jiassed  near  my 
head. 

Immediately  after  ihe  deparlnre  of  Major  Delalield,  the  un- 
friendly disposition  of  Mr.  M'Ciilleviay  made  itsolf  nianife«i :  it 


)|- 


•\ 


^ 


i  'i 


iiiUi,  '^^ 


I 


inn 


/AN  NJ.U  >    NARItAl  1\  JL. 


Iiail  bot'ii  only  t'rar  of  Major  P.'lafu-lil  that  had  indiu-til  Iijh, 
hillit.'rl(»  to  Ileal  me  with  some  iitUMiioii.  Insults  and  almso 
Were  heaped  upon  nic,  and  at  last  I  was  lonibly  turned  out  ol 
the  house.  But  sonuiofthe  Frenrlimen  had  so  niueh  roinpassioii 
as  to  steal  out  at  niiiht,  and  without  Mr.  M'(iillevray's  knowlcdi/c, 
furuisii  tf'Mt  poles,  and  sn  up  my  (cut.  Thanks  to  the  bounty 
of  Major  Delalicid,  I  had  a  supply  of  i\<ry  thine  needl'ul,  iind 
my  (huiirhter-  still  remained  with  inc.  ihoiiirh  .Mr.  M*(jillevray 
repeatedly  thruateiu-d  that  he  wuuid  i  <Tnuve  them.  His  jxisc- 
culions  did  not  abaie  when  I  let',  the  lori,  and  he  went  so  Car  a- 
to  take  my  ilawtfl'ters  trom  nn;,  and  semi  ihem  to  sleep  in  ilic 
(piarters  of  the  nu.-n  ;  but  they  escaped,  and  lied  l(i  the  house  ol' 
an  old  frenchman,  near  by,  who  nas  Mr.  M*(iillevray's  luther-in- 
law,  and  with  whose  dau^^hters  mn      had  heroine  iuti/nate. 

Forty-tlirt'c  days  |  had  lain  in  and  m-ir  this  iradiiiir  h(Mtse,aml 
was  now  m  i  most  miserable  comiition.  havinir  lucn  Cor  soim 
time  entirely  dej)rive(l  ol  the  assistance  ol  my  claiijjhters,  wIicm 
my  Conner  aeijuainlance  and  Criend,  Mr.  Uruee,  unexpectedly  en- 
tered my  tent  laic  in  the  eveniinj.  He  was  with  MajtM-  l.otiL'. 
and  w  par;y  <d'  sientlemen  then  retuniiiiir  Crom  LaKi-  V\  iimiptsi. 
who.  as  Mr.  iJruce  thou£r|it,  would  be  wiilinif  and  able  to  alion' 
!iie  some  assistaiiee  in  takiii"  my  daujrhters  out  oC  the  hands  of 
Mr.  M"<iillevray,  and  perhaps  in  {relling  out  to  Maekinae. 

'I'bree  times  I  \isitetl  Major  Long  at  his  cam p,  at  lliat  late  hour 
of  the  nifilil,  tboui,di  I  was  srarre  ai)h'  lo  wilk,  and  each  lime  lie 
lobl  me  that  bis  canoes  were  Ctdl.  and  timt  he  rould  do  inMhiii!: 
lor  me ;  but  at  leiisflh  becomintr  a  little  arcpiainied  with  m,  lii«. 
torv,  be  srcpied  to  take  more  interest  in  nu-.  and  when  he  sa\i 
ilie  papers  i  had  Crom  tiovrriior  (,'lark  and  otliers,  he  loi  I  me  ! 
was  a  t'lol  noi  to  have  shown  him  tliese  before.  He  had,  he  said, 
taken  me  C<ir  one  nC  ihotf  worlldess  white  nun,  who  remain  in 
the  Inilian  eounirv  from  inil(d:'nct'.  ami  for  the  sake  of  marryiiii'^ 
M.^uaw-:  but  now  that  he  understood  who  I  was,  he  would  try  In 
do  somelhirnf  fitr  me.  He  went  hiitisell,  wiih  several  men,  am! 
sonfibl  in  the  iiailiuir  house  C(»r  my  dauixhters.  He  lunl  intended 
to  siart  early  the  next  mornin!.' after  his  arrival  :  but  haviiis/ been 
-lirrinsr  marl)  all  ni:.di)  in  my  alliiirs,  he  deiirinined  ">  reiiiain 
over  ihc  next  day.  and  make  larther  exerlions  Cor  the  recovery 
of  mv  f  Inldren.     All  the  search  we  could  make  for  niv  daugli 


■^ 


jt    ?* 


had   im\u<Mil    luiii 
Insull!*  iiiiil  almsi'^ 
•ihlv  Uirnetl  out  ol 
,o  much  r»>m|wssioii 
It.vrsw'sUiwiwIi'tliic. 
mks  to  111*'  bouiuy 
iliinir  n«!ftlt'"U  a>"^ 
rh   Mr.  M'<iill<viay 
I  llifiii.     ili>^  l'''i>^- 
,„i  Ik-  wcHt  so  tar  :i- 
hi-ni  to  hU-»l'  i'>  ll"- 

t\,.,l  (I.  ill''  '»••"*'■  *'' 
■(;illevrayMi»t!uM-iu- 

;'Com*'  ii>ii">''''*'- 
,1s  irmVmir  l«<Hl^(^  'W"! 
avins  l.'iMi   for  «ouk 
;  ,ny  (laii^rlilors.  wluMi 
uce,  uMrxpfctt-aiy  <ii- 
viis  Willi  Major  l.oni> 
,V„m  LuKf  NN  i'u>il"u 
linir  and  a»>»«^  t"  »"'^^"' 
rs  out  of  i1h>  hai»'l«  ol 
ml  io  Ma.Uinac. 

,  ,\k,  ami  tiK-h  liin»>  !'< 
al  lir  rould  tlo  no»hii)|: 
,,uaini»"<l  with  my  hiv 
,iu'.  i-.i>il  \vh<'ii  he  sa>A 
,.;.,th.MV.  ho  toM  uiel 
.,•  „t..     11,.  h;ul,  he  ^itiii. 

iiuo.  "I>"  vi-'"»'">  '" 
,,.  x\\v  saU<-  or  murrym-: 
J  wns  1>«'  wouhi  iry  l" 
wiih  srvt-ral  men,  an'! 
,,.rH.     lie  hu.l  iiUfn-led 
rrivttl ;  hut  haviiiL' !»  on 
a.'l.Tmii.."!   ".  n-mam 
riions  for  thf  rorovrry 
U  luake  lor  mv  ilauiih 


'lANMCRM    NAKUAl'lVt., 


:i7« 


lor^,  at  and  about  tlie  tratUntr  hoiit«r,  rci<uU«;*l  in  the  conviction, 
that  lhrou)yfh  tho  aircncy  of  Mr.  M'JJiilcvray,  and  the  family  of  his 
fathiT-in-lu\v,  they  had  faiicn  into  the  hands  of  Kau-l)t'Cn>tiiHh- 
kwaw-nau,  a  rliicf  of  mir  vihaiff  iit  Mc-iiaii-zhc-laii-naiiiiir-  Tiiis 
briny;  tlio  rase,  I  was  compcHtMl  to  r«'hiniiji;^h  llif  Ih>|)0  nf  Ininiriu.'i' 
tht'in  out  the  (iresent  year,  aod  mist-nihlv  as  I  was  siiualcd,  ) 
»9«s  anxious  •oidnic  to  my  own  |ioo|i|<',  and  to  my  three  ilijl  Iron 
at  MacK'nac,  to  spend  the  winter. 

I  knew  the  eharacti-r  nf  Mr.  M'(iilievray.  and  al>o  that  tli<  tra- 
ders of  the  Nortli  W(  st  ("on\|mn\  neneiiiily,  iiad  ie-s  rau.se  to 
feel  friendly  towards  me,  tlian  tiny  mi^ht  have  had,  if  1  had  not 
toneerned  myself  with  Lord  Sellurk'^  part),  in  iIk  e.i|iiurft  of 
tli'-ir  |).isl  at  Red  Ivivei.  I  knew,  nl^ii.  that  my  ()eruliar  siiualion 
with  r<'sj)eei  lo  the  Indians,  would  makt;  it  verv  dithenlt  for  me  to 
gain  permission  lo  remain  at  or  near  «itln  of  the  houses  of  the 
North  West,  or  of  tiie  Ameriran  Fur  ("oi  cjianv .  I  had  l>een  sr- 
verely  and  dantreroiisly  womuledhyai  ■  Uan,  and  aeeurdinir  to 
iheir  eustoms,  1   was  Ixnmd.  or  .it  least  «  led,   to  av»'ni;e  I'ly- 

>elf  on  any  ol  the  same  iiaiid  that  mi^t  ,.dl  in  tity  way  ;  and 
should  it  lie  Known  ilial  I  was  al  either  oi  iht  iradinji  houses, 
very  few  Indians  would  venture  to  visit  ii.  Ti.kiiitf  these  tidngf; 
iiit(»  etHi-.ideration,  I  determined  to  a< cepi  the  frieiidlv  (dlir  of 
Major  Ijoiiy;.  lo  iM'iiiy  nie  to  ihe  Slates,  and  aceordinjjiy  took  a 
place  in  one  of  Ids  canoe  s.  IJut  after  proceedini!  on  our  way  an 
hour  or  two.  I  hecanu;  convinced,  as  did  .Major  Lonir  and  the 
^entleiiien  uith  him,  that  I  could  not  salel\  uiidertak«'  so  long 
niid  diirn  ult  a  journey  in  my  present  situation.  Aeccrdiniily  they 
jiut  me  in  charire  of  some  people  helonging  to  the  traders,  and 
H'M  ine  litck  t.i  the  fort. 

i  knew  that  the  doiu's  of  the  Noitji  West  Company's  hons^* 
wtniM  he  closed  auaiiisi  nie,  and  accordiijMlv  made  application  to 
my  late  employrs,  the  Ain.'rican  Fur  ( 'ompany.  ^  imiu;;  Mr. 
Davenport,  in  whose  care  the  house  then  was,  trranteil  a  ready 
compliancr  with  my  reijnest,  and  ijave  me  a  room  ;  hot  as  pro- 
visions were  scarce  on  that  side  I  was  supplied  daily  by  Dr. 
M'Laui/hlin,  of  the  North  West,  who  liad  now  taken  the  place  of 
Mr.  M*<Jillevrny.  He  sent  fvery  day  as  much  as  sulFiced  to  feed 
me  and  Mr.  Davenport,  titgether  with  his  wife. 

1  had  not  been  lonjf  here,  wlien  Mr.  Cote  arrived,  nnd  look 


,_   ,       u 


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TANVKR  S    NAKKATIVE, 


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charge  of  the  house  in  place  of  Mr.  Davenport.  Mr.  Cote  caiiio 
to  my  room,  and  seeing  me  on  the  bed,  only  remarked,  "  well, 
you  have  been  making  a  war  by  yourself."  That  night  he  al- 
lowed my  supper  to  be  brought  me,  and  early  next  morninjr 
turned  me  out  of  doors.  But  he  was  not  content  with  driving 
me  from  the  house;  he  forbade  me  lo  remain  on  the  'Inited  States 
side  of  the  boundary ;  and  all  my  entreaties,  together  willi  the 
interference  of  Dr.  M'Lauahlin,  coulii  not  influence  Mr.  Cote  to 
change  his  determination.  In  this  emergency.  Dr.  M'Laughlin, 
though  he  knew  that  the  success  of  his  post  in  the  winter's  trade, 
must  be  injured  l)y  the  measure,  consented  to  receive  me  on  tlic 
British  side,  where  he  fed  and  took  care  of  me.  Early  in  the 
winter,  my  wounds  had  so  far  healed,  that  I  could  hunt  a  little, 
holding  my  gun  in  my  left  hand.  But  about  new-yars,  1  went 
out  one  evening  to  bring  water,  slipped  and  fell  on  the  ice,  and 
not  only  broke  my  arm  in  the  old  place,  but  also  my  collar  bone, 
Dr.  M'Laughlin  now  took  tbe  management  of  my  case  into  hi> 
own  haiuls,  it  having  been  left  entirely  to  my  own  treatment  be- 
fore, and  I  was  now  confined  as  huig  as  I  liad  been  in  the  fall. 

In  the  sj)ring,  I  was  ayjain  able  to  h\mf.  I  killed  considerabl 
numbers  of  rabbits,  and  some  otiier  animals,  for  the  skins  ol 
which  the  Doctor  paid  me  in  money,  a  very  liberal  price.  As  tin 
time  ai»proached  for  the  traders  to  leave  the  wintering  grounds, 
he  told  me,  the  North  West  had  no  boats  going  to  Mackinac,  but 
that  he  would  oblijje  Mr.  (Jotr  to  cany  me  out.  It  was  accord- 
ingly so  arranged,  and  Mr.  Oote  promised  to  take  me  to  F(tn<l  Dii 
Lac  in  his  own  canoe.  But  instead  of  tins,  he  sent  me  in  a  boat 
with  some  Frenchmen.  In  the  route  from  Fond  Du  I<ac  to  the 
Saut  De  St,  Marie,  I  was  dependent  tipon  Mr.  Morrison ;  hut  the 
treatment  I  received  from  the  boatmen  was  so  rough,  that  I  in- 
duced them  to  put  m(^  on  shore,  to  walk  thirty-tive  miles  td  the 
Saut.  Mr,  Schoolcraft  now  wished  to  engage  mc  as  an  inter- 
preter, but  as  I  heard  that  the  little  property  I  had  left  at  Mack- 
inac had  b»'en  seized  to  pay  my  children's  hoard,  ami  as  I  knew 
their  situation  rei|uired  my  presence,  I  went  tliither accordinrly. 
and  was  engaged  by  Col,  Boyd  as  Indian  interpreter,  in  which  si- 
tuation I  continued  till  the  summer  of  1*^28,  when  being  dissatis 
fied  with  his  treatment,  I  left  Mackinac,  and  proceeded  to  New- 
York,  for  the  purpose  of  making  arraneements  for  the  publication 


J 


«H J.u 


lote  ca»ii(' 

h1,  "  well, 

ighl  he  al- 

t  mormn<r 

ith  (hivinir 

lited  Stales 

:.r  with  ihc 

yir.  t'ote  to 

►rLavighlin, 

liter's  trade. 

e  mc  on  the 

Early  in  the 

hunt  a  little. 

oars,  1  weni 

1  the  ice,  ami 

r  collar  bone, 
case  into  hi> 

treatment  hi  ■ 

in  the  fall. 

il  consiilerabl 
the  skins  ol 

price.     As  thr 

crinir  gronnds. 
Mackinac,  bill 

lit  was  accord- 
e  to  Fond  D" 
,t  me  in  a  boat 
On  T.ac  to  the 
•vison;  hut  the 
lugh,  that  I  in- 
e  miles  u<  the 
ic  as  an  inter- 
h  left  at  Mark- 

ftn«l  as  ^  '*"^^^' 
ler  accordin.rly. 
|or,  in  which  si- 
being  (lissatis 
jcede.l  to  New 
the  publication 


TANNER  S    NARRATIVE. 


281 


of  my  narrative ;  and  upon  my  return  to  the  north,  was  employed 
by  Mr.  Schoolcraft,  Indian  agent  at  the  Saut  De  St.  Marie,  as  his 
interpreter ;  to  which  place  1  took  my  family,  and  have  since  re- 
sided there. 

Three  of  my  children  are  still  among  the  Indians  in  the  north. 
The  two  daughters  would,  as  I  am  informed,  gladly  join  me,  if 
it  were  in  their  power  to  escape.  The  son  is  older,  and  is  at- 
tached to  the  life  he  has  so  long  led  as  a  hunter.  I  have  some 
hope  that  I  may  yet  be  able  to  go  and  make  another  effort  to 
bring  away  my  daughters. 


36 


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t  ^  , 


'  11 


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>J^-"gJt?<'*g 


M^') 


r  ^i 


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y '  n 


fU  i 


rU/y 


( r 


(il 


i   ^ 


fi 


^  >,• 


*¥■' 


W 


^Dmmmmmmm 


wmmmtii 


PART  II. 


1 


\ 


Mi    ) 


>  ,• 


iifS^A 


[1  '■■' 


in 


m  f 


W^ 


(-'        M 


M  f; 


I 


\m  ^\i 


./ 1]^. 


i}\ 


I  I  t» 


I 


W 


k 


p*.  r 


u 


A^ , 


*v 


dBflu 


PART    II. 


CHAPTER   I. 

01'  feasts — of  fasts  and  dreaming — their  idea  of  the  human  soul,  and  of  a  future 
existence— customs  of  burial — of  their  knowledge  of  astronomy — traditions 
concerning  the  sun  and  moon — of  totems — of  tlieir  acquiiintonce  with  plants, 
animals,  and  minerals. 

OF  INDIAN  FEAST!?. 


Among  the  Indians,  the  man  wlio  gives  many  foasis,  or  \vln>, 
in  the  language  of  their  songs,  "  causes  the  pcojile  to  waii^  about 
continually,"   is   accounted  great.     In    times,   therefore,   when 
game  is  abundant,  feasts  are  multii»ii(!d.     IJefore  the   whites  in 
troduced  among  them  intoxicating  drinks,  it  is  probable  the  a. 
sembling  together  for  feasts,  Mas  tlmir  principal  and  most  f 
vourite  source  of  excitement  in  times  of  peace,  and  coniparativi 
inactivity.     They  have  several  kinds  offcasts: — 

1st.  Metai-we-koon-de-win — Medicine  feast,  or  that  feast- 
ing which  forms  a  part  of  tlioir  great  religious  ceremony,  the 
IVIetai.  This  is  under  the  direction  of  some  old  men,  who  on- 
called  chiefs  for  the  Metai,*  and  the  initiated  only  are  admitted. 
The  guests  are  invited  by  u  Me-zhin-no-way,  or  chief's  man  of 
business,  who  delivers  to  each  of  the  guests  a  small  stick.     In  tlic 

♦  Some  discussion  has  heretofore  taken  place  concerniiij^  the.  existence  of  a  pricst- 
liood  among  the  Indians.  A  little  inquiry  will  convince  any  one,  that  the  medicine 
men  area  set  of  crafty  impostors,  who  subsist,  in  a  great  measure,  by  practising  on 
their  credulity ;  by  seUing  them  medicines,  or  charms,  for  ensuring  success  in 
hunting,  for  enticing  the  females,  and  for  other  purposes.  Wlien  one  of  these  has 
been  so  fortunate  as  to  gain  an  astiendance  over  their  superstitious  and  credulous 
minds,  he  sometimes  sets  up  for  a  prophet,  and  claims  intercourse  with  BUjierior 
j.nd  invisible  beings. 


h  I 


rJSO 


INDIAN    FEAsr?. 


■ii^ 


i^'  t. 


■'M  I  li'i 


^\I-i^ 


U,     W-r 


:iouih  thpy  use  small  pieces  of  cane;  in  the  north,  quills  air 
sometimes  substituted,  which  are  died  and  kept  for  the  purpose. 
\o  verbal  message  is  delivered  with  this  token.  The  numerous 
preparatory  measures,  and  the  various  steps  in  the  performance 
of  this  ceremony,  need  not  be  here  detailed.*  Dogs  are  always 
rhoscn  for  the  feast,  from  a  belief,  that  as  they  are  more  saga- 
cious and  useful  to  men,  so  they  will  be  more  acceptable  to  their 
divinities,  than  any  other  animals.  They  believe  that  the  food 
they  eat,  at  this  and  sonic  other  of  their  feasts,  ascends,  though 
in  a  form  invisible  to  them,  to  the  Great  Spirit.  Besides  the 
songs  sang  on  occasion  of  this  feast,  and  some  of  which  have 
been  translated  for  this  work,  they  have  numerous  exhortations 
from  the  old  men.  Among  much  of  unintelligible  allusion,  and 
ridiculous  boasting,  these  addresses  contain  some  moral  precepts 
and  exhortations,  intermixed  with  their  traditionary  notions  con- 
lernin;:-  \a-n;i-hush,  and  other  personages  of  their  mythologv. 
Whene\-er  tlie  name  of  the  Great  Spirit  is  uttered  by  the  speaker, 
all  the  audience,  who,  if  they  remain  sober,  seem  wrapped  in  the 
deepest  attention,  respond  to  it  by  the  interjection,  Kwa-ho-ho- 
ho-ho-ho !  the  first  syllable  being  uttered  in  a  quick  and  loud 
(one,  and  each  of  tlic  additional  syllables  fainter  and  quicker, 
mtil  it  ceases  to  be  heard.  They  say  the  speaker  touches  the 
Jreat  Spirit,  when  he  mentions  the  name,  and  the  effect  on  the 
udience  may  be  compared  to  a  blow  on  a  tense  string,  which 
vibrates  shorter  and  shorter,  until  it  is  restored  to  rest.  This 
peculiar  interjection  is  also  used  by  the  Ottawwaws,  when  thev 
blow  or  shoot  with  their  medicine  skins,  at  the  persons  tc  be  ini- 
tiated. 

2d.  Wain-je-tah  We-koox-de-win — Feast  called  for  bv 
dreams.  Feasts  of  this  kind  may  be  held  at  any  time,  and  no 
particular  qualifications  are  necessary  in  the  entertainer  or  hi*- 
;j;uests.  The  word  Wain-je-tah  means  common,  or  true,  as  they 
often  use  it  in  connexion  with  the  names  of  plants  or  animals,  as 
Wain-jc-tah  0-muk-kuk-ke.,  means  a  right  or  proper  toad,  in  dis- 
tinction from  a  tree  frog,  or  a  lizard. 


'''f 


*  A  copious  account  of  the  Medicine  Diince,  or  Metai,  .is  it  exists  amonff  th^ 
.Me-no-mo-nies,  is  contained  in  a  manuscript  paper,  entitled,  "  Remarks  on  the 
-Muhology  of  the  A!i;oni\ni.s,"  &c.  comnmnicated  to  the  New- York  Historical  Sn- 
ii(  t\ .  in  lS27,  bv  the  Editor  of  ttiis  nurrstive 


\  V 


,   s. 


.^-A 


^-s«?^ 


ijuills  air 
I  purpose, 
numerous 
rformance 
ire  always 
nore  saga- 
Die  to  tlieir 
it  the  food 
ids,  though 
Besiiles  the 
,vhich  have 
ixhortalions 
Uusion,  and 
ral  precept? 
notions  con- 

mytholosy. 
the  apeakei. 
•apped  in  the 
,  Kwa-ho-ho- 
ick  and  loud 
and  quicker, 
•  touches  tho 

effect  on  the 

tring,  whicli 
,o  rest.     This 
when  they 

Ions  tc  be  ini- 

ailed  for  by 
time,  and  no 
plainer  or  hi"^ 
true,  as  they 
lor  animals,  as 
Ir  toad,  in  dis- 


lexistB  amona  thf 

'  Remarks  on  th> 

lork  Historical  f^"- 


INDIAN    FF.ASla. 

:{d.  Ween-dam-was-so-win — Feast  of  giving  names.  These 
are  had  principally  on  occasion  of  giving  names  to  children,  and 
the  guests  are  expected  to  eat  all,  be  it  more  or  less,  that  is  put 
into  their  dish  by  the  entertainer.  The  reason  they  assign  for 
requiring,  at  this  and  several  other  feasts,  all  that  has  been  cook- 
ed to  be  eaten,  is,  apparently,  very  insuflicient ;  namely,  that  they 
do  so  in  imitation  of  hawks,  and  some  ntlier  birds  of  prey,  who 
never  return  a  second  time  to  that  they  liave  killed. 

4th.  Menis-se-no  We-koon-de-win — War  feast.  These 
leasts  are  made  before  starting,  or  on  the  way  towards  the  ene- 
my's country.  Two,  four,  eight,  or  twelve  men,  may  be  called, 
but  by  no  means  an  odd  number.  The  whole  animal,  whether 
deer,  bear,  or  moose,  or  whatever  it  may  be,  is  cooked,  and  they 
are  expected  to  eat  it  all ;  and,  if  it  is  in  their  power,  tliey  have  a 
large  bowl  of  bear's  grease  standing  by,  which  they  drink  in 
place  of  water.  Notwithstanding  that  a  man  who  fails  to  eat  all 
his  portion,  is  liable  to  the  ridicule  of  his  more  gormandizing 
companions,  it  frequently  happens  that  some  of  them  are  com- 
pelled to  make  a  present  of  tobacco  to  their  entertainer,  and  beg 
him  to  permit  that  they  may  not  eat  all  he  has  given  them.  In 
ihis  case,  and  when  there  is  no  one  of  the  company  willing  to 
oat  it  for  him,  some  one  is  called  from  without.  In  every  part 
of  this  feast,  when  it  is  made  after  the  warriors  leave  home,  they 
take  care  that  no  bone  of  the  animal  cafen  shall  he  broken  ;  but 
iifter  stripping  the  flesh  from  them,  they  are  carefully  tied  up, 
and  hung  upon  a  tree.  The  reason  they  assign  for  preserving, 
in  this  feast,  the  bones  of  the  victim  unbroken,  is,  that  thus  they 
may  signify  to  the  Great  Spirit,  their  desire  to  return  home  to 
their  own  country,  with  their  bones  uninjured. 

5th.  Gitche-we-koon-de-win — The  great  feast.  This  is  a 
toast  of  high  pretensions,  which  few  men,  in  any  band,  and  only 
those  of  principal  authority,  can  venture  to  make.  The  animal 
is  cooked  entire,  t  !-r  as  they  are  able  to  do  ir.  This  kind  is 
sometimes  called  iWe?  ziz-a-kwa-win. 

6th.  Waw-bun-no  We-koon-de-win — Wawbeno  feast.  This, 
and  the  other  mummeries  of  the  Wawbeno,  which  is  looked 
upon  as  0  false  and  mischievous  heresy,  are  now  laid  aside  by 
most  respectable  Indians.  These  feasts  were  celebrated  vt'ith 
iimch  noise  and  disturbance  ;  they  were  distinguished  from  all 


I 


MiiMot..  _ 


288 


rxSTS  AND  DREAMIN'U. 


other  feasts,  by  being  held  commonly  in  the  night  time,  and  the 
showing  off  of  many  tricks  with  tire. 

7th.  Je-bi  Naw-ka-win — Feast  with  the  dead.  This  feast  h 
eaten  at  the  graves  of  their  deceased  friends.  They  kindle  a 
fire,  and  each  person,  before  he  begins  to  eat,  cuts  off  a  small 
piece  of  meat,  which  he  casts  into  the  lire.  The  smoke  and 
smell  of  this,  they  say,  attracts  the  Je-bi  to  come  and  eat  with 
them. 

8th.  CHE-BAir-KOo-CHE-nA-wiN — Feast  for  his  medicine. 
During  one  whole  <lay  in  spring,  and  another  in  autumn,  every 
good  hunter  spreads  out  the  contents  of  his  medicine  bag  in  thr 
back  part  of  his  lodge,  and  feasts  his  neighbours,  in  honour  of 
his  medicine.  This  is  considered  a  solemn  and  important  feast, 
like  that  of  the  Mctai. 

9th.  0-sKiN-NE-oE-TAH-OA-wm — Boy's  feast.  This  might  Ix 
called  the  feast  of  the  tirst  fruits,  as  it  is  made  on  occasion  of  ;i 
boy,  or  a  young  hunter,  i<illing  his  first  animal,  of  any  particular 
kind.  From  the  smallest  bird,  or  a  fish,  to  a  moose,  or  buffaloi', 
they  are  careful  to  oliserve  it.  Numerous  instances  of  it  occur 
in  the  foregoing  narrative,  therefore  it  need  not  be  dwelt  upoii, 


OF  FASTS  AM)  DRFAMING. 

Utuoiious  and  long  continued  fasting  is  enjoined  u])i)n  youiii; 
and  unmarried  persons,  of  I)oth  sexes,  ami  they  begin  at  a  very 
early  age.  The  parent,  in  the  morning,  offers  the  child  the  usual 
iireakfast  in  one  hand,  and  charcoals  in  the  other;  if  the  latter  is 
accepted,  the  parent  is  gratified,  and  some  commendations,  or 
marks  of  favour,  are  bestowed  on  the  child.  To  be  able  to  con- 
tinue long  fasting,  confers  an  enviable  distinction.  They,  there- 
fore, inculcate  upon  their  children  the  necessity  of  remaining 
long  without  food.  Sometimes  the  children  fast  three,  five, 
seven,  and  some,  as  is  said,  even  ten  days ;  in  all  of  which  timr 
they  take  only  a  little  water,  and  that  at  very  distant  intervals. 
During  these  fasts,  they  pay  very  particular  attention  to  their 
dreams,  and  from  the  character  of  these,  their  parents,  to  whom 
they  relate  them,  form  an  opinion  of  the  future  life  of  the  cliili] 


>,  and  the 

lis  feast  13 
^  kindle  a 
ifl'  a  small 
invoke   and 
id  eat  with 

medicine, 
lumn,  every 
ic  bag  in  tho 
n  honour  of 
portant  feast, 

'bis  miglit  1m 
orxasion  of  " 
any  particxdar 
,e,  or  bviffaloc, 
;s  of  it  occur 
,P  dwelt  upon. 


led  upon  youiv: 
,egin  at  a  very 
child  the  usual 
;  if  the  latter  i^ 
mendations,  01 
be  able  to  con- 
They,  therc- 
ty  of  remaining 
[fast  three,  fivf- 
I  of  whic^^  timr 
istant  intervals, 
tention  to  their 
arents,  to  whom 
life  of  the  chilli 


LASTS  AND  DKKAMING, 

Dreaming  of  tilings  above,  as  birds,  clouds,  the  sky,  &c.  is  con- 
sidered favourable  ;  and  when  the  child   begins  to   relate  any 
thing  of  this  kind,  the  parent  interrupts  him,  saying,  '•  it  is  well, 
mv  child,  say  no  more  of  it."     In  these  dreams,  also,  the  chil- 
dren receive  impressions,  which  continue  to  influence  their  cha- 
racter through  life.     A  man,  an  old  and  very  distinguished  war- 
rior, who  was  some  years  ago  at  Red  River,  dreamed,  when 
fiasting  in  his  childhood,  that  a  bat  came  to  him,  and  this  little 
animal  he  chose  for  his  medicine.     To  all  tlie  costly  medicines 
lor  war  or  hunting,  used  by  other  Indians,  he  paid  no  attention. 
Throughout  his  life  he  wore  the  skin  of  a  bat  tied  to  the  crowu 
of  his  head,  and  in  his  numerous  war  excursions,  he  went  into 
battle  exulting  in  the  confidence,  lliat  the  Sioux,  who  could  not 
hit  a  bat  on  the  wing,  would  never  be  able  to  hit  him.     He  dis- 
tuiguished  himself  in  many  battles,  and  killed  many  of  his  ene- 
mies ;  but  throughout  his  long  life,  no  bullet  ever  touched  him, 
all  of  which  he  attributed  to  the  protecting  influence  of  his  medi- 
cine, revealed  to  him,  in  answer  to  his  fasting,  in  boyhood.     Of 
Net-no-kwa,  his  foster  mother,  the  author  of  the  foregoing  nar- 
rative relates,  that  at  about  twelve  years  of  age,  she  fasted  ten 
successive  days.     In  her   dream,   a  man  came  down  and  stood 
before  her,  and  after  speaking  of  many  things,  he  gave  her  two 
sticks,  saying,  "  I  give  you  these  to  walk  upon,  and  your  hair  I 
give  it  to  be  like  snow."     In  all  her  subsequent  life,  this  excel- 
lent woman  retained  the  confident  assurance,  that  she  should  live 
to  extreme  old  age,  and  often,  in  times  of  the  greatest  distress 
from  hunger,  and  of  apparent  danger  from  other  causes,  she 
cheered  her  family  by  the  assurance,  that  it  was  given  to  her  to 
crawl  on  two  sticks,  and  to  have  her  head  like  the  snow,  and 
roused  them  to  exertion  by  infusing  some  part  of  her  own  con- 
fident reliance  upon  the  protection  of  a  superior  and  invisible 
Power. 

The  belief,  that  communications  take  place  in  dreams  from 

i  superior  beings  to  men,  is  not  peculiar  to  this  people,  or  this  age 

of  the  world.     Men,  particularly,  when  their  minds  are  little  cul- 

livated,  are  ever  ready  to  believe  themselves  objects  of  particular 

attention,  and  the  subjects  of  especial  solicitude  to  their  divinities. 

I  .\mong  the  Indians  of  the  Algonkin  stock,  many,  and  perhaps 

II,  believe  that  not  only  their  prayers,  in  times  of  distress,  are 

37 


'^'.tu 


lASTS  AND  DREAMING. 


••5* 


;iski  M' 


h' ' 


■^'tK 


lit'urd  aMil  iiiif^wfied,  hut    llioy  lliink,  that  io  some  among  fhcm, 
;nr  roinrniniicatcd  in   dnnnis  intinialions  of  things   which  are 
lo  happen  in  ronioto  linu-s,  and  even  after  death.     It  Ih  probable 
llirir  traditional  belief  of  a  fntiire  slate,  and  of  the  circnmstancfs 
.iltciidintr  it,  have  made  s(»  wtronff  an  impression  on  the  minds  of 
children,  that  iIk  y  may  oflcii  dream  of  it,  and  eontinuc  to  do  ao, 
at   intervals   during  life.       Aecordingly,  several  may  he  found 
among  them,  wlio,  having  in  extreme  sickness  had  their  thoughts 
paitirnlarly  directed  to  this  subject,   and  having,   perhaps,  been 
reduced  so  low  as  lo  be  considered  in  a  desperate  condition — [of 
a  person  in  Avhicli  situation  they  speak  as  of  one  dead]— .may- 
have  dreamed,  or  imagined  the  impressions  of  their  early  child- 
hood  to  have  been   realized.     Hence,   wc  hear  them  relating, 
Midi  confidence,  that  such  and  such  persons  have  !)eendcad,  and 
have  travelled  along  tlie  path  of  the  dead,  till  they  have  come  to 
the  great  strawberry,  which  lies  by  the  road,  this  side  the  river; 
they  have  seen  the  river  itself,  some  have  even  passed  over  it, 
jind   arrived   in  the  villages  of  the  dead.     Dreams  of  this   kind 
^rrm  to  have  bee;)  frequent  among  them.     But  they  have,  most 
comnionly,  to  tell  of  vexation,  annoyance,  and  disappointment. 
They  have  come  to  the  great  strawberry,  at  which  the  .le-bi-nff 
refresh  themselves,  on  their  journey  ;  but  on  taking  up  the  spoon, 
and  alteinpling  to  separate  a  part  of  it,  the  berry  has  become  ii 
ruck,  (which,  with  the  people  about  Lake  Superior,  is  a  soft,  red 
sand  rock,    because  the  type  exists  in  their  country.)     Thov 
have  then  gone  on,  have  been  much  alarmed  at  the  Mc-tig-ush-r- 
]io-kif,  (the  swinging  loo,)  on  which  they  have  to  cross,  or  at  the 
great  dog,  who  stands  beyoiul  it.     They  have  received  taunt?, 
and  gibes,  and   i.-.sidts,  amon^jr  their  friends  ;  have  been  ii  cired 
at,  and  called  Je-bi !  have  had  ashes  and  water  given  them,  in 
])lnce  of  Mun-dah-min  aw-bo,   or   corn  broth,    bark  for  dried 
meat,  and  O-zluish-kwa-to-wuk,  or  the  large  puckwi,  called  pud" 
bulls,  for  squashes.     Some  men  have  commonly  seen,  in  that, 
country,  onh^  squaws,  numbers  of  wliom  liave  competed  for  them, 
»•<  an  husband,  and  the  dreams  of  all  have  been  tinged  with  some 
!>liade  of  colour,  drawn  from  their  own  peculiar  situation.     How 
liiose  ]ieo|'le  came  first  in  possession  of  their  opinions  respectins; 
the  country  <tf  the  dead,  cannot,  jierhaps,  be  known;  but  haviiiii 
ii.  v\e  shuiiU!  not  be  surprised  that  it  influences  their  dream?. 


aMHh 


cKiir.MuXlDs   \i    inti;kmi;n  IS. 


)iOl 


long  tlitm. 

wliich  arf- 

18  prolmblc 

■cumstnnces 

he  minds  of 

luc  to  do  so, 

vy  be  found 

leir  thou^rbls 

crhHps,  hm\ 

,n(Ution— [of 

!  dcadl—niay 

ir  early  child- 

.hem  relating, 

loen  dead,  and 

have  come  to 

side  the  river; 

passed  over  it, 

9  of  this  kind 

icy  have,  most 

liHappoinlmcnl. 

ch  the  Je-bi-ns 

pg  lip  the  spoon. 

y  has  become  ii 

K,  is  a  soft,  red 

ountry.)    They 

ic  Me-tig-ush-f- 
cross,  or  at  the 
received  taunt?, 
ve  been  'id  red 
given  them,  i» 
bark  for  dried 
kwi,  called  puff 
y  seen,  in  ('^'^ 
npcted  for  theifl, 
tinged  with  some 
situation.     How 
uiions  respcclins; 
own-,  but  bavins 
their  dream?- 


In  connexion  uith  this  subjecl,  wo  nmy  <ltvoit'  a  monuiil  u< 
the  consideration  of  llieir  dcu  of  the  human  soul,  or  us  they  cull 
it,  the  shadow.*  'Diey  think  tliis  bect)tuts  iinscllhui,  or  as  it  were 
detached  from  the  body  in  violent  sii'kin.'ss ;  and  tlu'v  look  upon 
r  person  who  is  very  low,  as  one  already  dead.  Hence  it  is  nol 
unusual  to  hear  them  speak  of  such  and  such  n  person,  as  beini;- 
now  dying,  and  yet  to  lind  him  survive,  not  only  many  days,  but 
years  ;  and  when  told  of  this,  they  seem  conscious  of  no  impro- 
priety in  the  expression  :  on  the  contrary,  they  often  say  of  ;i 
person,  he  died  at  such  a  time,  but  came  aguui.  1  have  also 
heard  them  rcproacli  a  sick  person,  for  what  they  considered  im- 
prudent exposure  in  convalescence ;  telling  him  that  his  shadow 
was  not  well  settled  down  in  him.  and  tliat  therefore  he  was  in 
danger  of  losing  it.  It  would  seem,  liowcver,  that  altlioutrji  tlitv 
believe  the  soul  leaves  the  body  previous  to  the  coinmonci  ineni 
of  dissolution  in  the  former,  yet  that  it  is  not  removed  fur  iVom 
it  until  ions  after  death.  This  is  mai\ifest  from  tlieir  usage  in  the 
feast  of  Che-bah-koo-che-ga-win,  and  from  some  of  the  cercmd- 
nies  of  interment,  particularly  in  the  case  of  women,  wU^n  tlnii 
husbands  are  buried. 

In  the  spring  of  the  year  1826,  a  man  of  the  Mtiiomoniesdicil 
and  was  buried,  very  nea-r  ihu  encampment  of  a  part  of  the  liflli 
regiment  of  United  States  infantry,  on  the  hioli  prairie  in  the  rear 
of  the  village  of  Prairie  Uu  Ciiein,  on  the  i\Iississi|)pi.  'I'he  body 
was  attended  to  the  grave  by  a  considerable  number  of  the  friends 
and  relatives,  and  when  it  was  let  down  into  the  shallow  grave, 
the  wife  of  the  deceased  approaclied  the  brink,  and  after  lookiiiu 
down  on  the  lude  cofFm,  she  stepped  upoa  it,  and  imineiiialcly 
across,  taking  her  course  over  tlte  plains,  towards  the  bhili's  iherr. 
about  a  mile  distant.  This  is  a  comnn>n  practice  of  the  women 
of  that  tribe;  and  the  mourner  is  careful,  if  she  contemplates  a 
second  marriage,  never  to  look  baek  towards  the  grave  she  ha-^ 
left,  but  returns  to  her  lodge  by  some  devious  and  circuitous 
route.  It  is  done,  as  they  say,  that  the  ('ha-pi  (Je-bi  of  the  Ojib- 
heways,)  or  the  dead  person,  may  not  l)e  able  to  follow  litem  at- 

*  O-jce-rJmu-go-mau — Schoolcraft.  Tlii.s  is  the  sulistuiilivo  without  :tiiy  in 
separable  pronoun.  It  in  comnicuy  uscil  in  coinbimition,  ms  nc-tuhrlmk,  my 
tliadow;  ke-tah-chul:,  thy  shadow ;  o-ioh-rhvl:.  \\U  nhail'iw.  aiimiiL''  the  .Afciio 
monies. 


(i 


% 


I  ■! 


I         I 


V" 


■>.  'f 


I  ! 


V  : 


393 


(  i;kemonies  ax  intehments. 


J'  ^ 


m 


w 


V 


icnvart]!'.  If  ihc  woman  should  look  back,  they  believe  she 
would  cither  fall  dead  immediately,  or  beromc  insane,  and  remain 
so  ever  after.  On  some  occasions,  but  rarclj'.  another  person  ac- 
rompanics  the  mourner,  carrying  a  handful  of  small  twines,  and 
following  immediately  after  her,  flourishes  it  about  her  head,  as 
if  driving  away  flies.  The  verb  applicable  to  this  action,  is  in 
the  third  person  singular,  Wai-whai-na-how,  the  more  general 
one  applicable  to  the  whole  ceremony,  Ah-ncuk-kun-new. 

In  the  instance  above  mentioned,  the  woman  walked  rapidly, 
and  without  looking  back,  across  the  wide  prairie,  in  a  direction 
almost  oppoisite  that  leading  to  her  lodge ;  but  her  loud  and  bitter 
lamentings  could  be  heard  at  a  great  distance,  seeming  to  contra- 
dict the  action  by  which  she  professed  to  seek  an  everlasting  se- 
paration from  the  deceased. 

The  more  common  and  well  known  observances  paid  to  thr 
dead  by  these  people,  seem  not  to  indicate  such  a  destitution  oi' 
affection  as  the  ceremony  just  described.  In  many  of  their  cus- 
toms relating  to  the  treatment  of  the  dead,  we  can  discover,  not 
only  the  traces  of  kind  feeling,  but  a  strong  confidence  in  a  future 
existence,  and  the  belief  that  their  departed  friends  can  know  and 
estimate  the  value  of  friendly  oflices  rendered  them  after  their 
departure.  At  the  time  of  the  great  council  at  Prairie  DuCheiii. 
in  1825,  a  8ioux  chief,  of  the  remote  band  of  the  Sissitong,  sick- 
ened and  died  of  a  bilious  fever.  He  had  been  a  distinguished 
man  among  his  own  people,  and,  as  he  had  cornea  great  dislanct 
from  his  own  country,  in  obedience  io  tlie  call  of  our  govern- 
ment, the  military  commandant  at  that  post,  was  induced  to  bury 
him  with  (he  honours  of  war.  The  men  of  his  band  were  frathernl 
around  his  body,  in  the  lodge  w  here  he  died,  and  when  the  escort 
arrived,  they  raised  him  upon  his  bier,  a  hundred  manly  voirr< 
at  tlie  same  time  cluintinfr  forth  a  requiem,  thus  rendered  bv  u 
person  well  acquainted  with  their  laniruage: 

Grieve  not,  ourbrotlirr!  tin-  j!;'.!!)  thou  nrt  walking 
Is  that  in  wliich  we,  ainl  all  inrti  mimt  llMlow. 

And  this  they  continued  to  repent,  until  they  nached  the  (rravi 
There  is  something  impressive  and  allecting  in  their  habit  of  pri- 
serving  and  dressing  u|)  the  je-bi,  or  memorial  of  the  deail,  wliirli, 
like  our  weeds  and  crapes,  finds  a  place  in  many  a  dwelling  wherr 
little  of  mourning  iii  visible.     Yet.  though  the  place  ",  '""h  drnl!- 


,r*- 


■ftii«w 


fKREMONIF.S    AT    INTERMENTS. 


•.itKj 


had  made  vacant  in  their  hearts,  may  have  been  filh^d,  tliey  seem 
never  to  forget  the  supply  they  consider  due  the  wants  of  the  de- 
parted. Whenever  they  eat  or  drink,  a  portion  is  carefully  set 
apart  for  the  je-bi,  and  this  observance  continues  for  years, 
should  they  not,  in  the  mean  time,  have  an  opportiuiity  to  send 
out  this  memorial  witli  some  war  party ;  wlien,  if  it  be  thrown 
down  on  the  field  of  battle,  as  they  aim  always  to  do,  then  their 
obligation  to  the  departed  ceases. 

Of  the  ('hippewyaus,  the  Sarcees,  the  Strong  Bows,  and  other 
tribes  inhabiting  those  dreary  regions  which  border  on  the  arctic 
circle,  it  is  related,  that  they  in  many  instances  omit  to  bury  their 
dead,  and  that  they  frequently  desert  their  relatives  and  friends, 
whenever,  from  sickness  or  old  age,  they  become  unable  to 
endure  the  ordinary  fatigues  of  their  manner  of  life.  There  is  no 
more  reason  to  question  the  accuracy  of  these  statements,  than 
of  those  in  relation  to  the  cannibalism,  sodomy,  and  other  shock- 
ing vices  of  more  southern  tribes.  But  as  the  destitution  of  na- 
tural afl'ection  manil'ested  in  the  conduct  of  many  of  the  American 
tribes,  towards  their  relatives  in  sickness  and  decrepitude,  is  un- 
doubtedly that  among  their  vices,  which  is  most  abhorrent  to  the 
feelings  of  civilized  men,  so  we  sliall  find  the  instances  of  rare 
occurrence,  except  where  the  rigour  of  the  climate,  or  other  na- 
tural causes,  impose  on  them  a  necessity,  to  which  we  ourselves, 
in  the  same  circumstances,  should  probably  yield,  as  they  do. 
The  horrible  practices  to  which  men  of  all  races  have  been  driven 
in  besieged  cities,  in  cases  of  shipwreck,  and  other  similar  emer- 
gencies, should  admonish  us  that  the  Ind'  ns,  as  a  race,  deserve 
no  peculiar  detestation  for  crimes  erowinu  unavoidably  out  of 
ihcir  situation. 


•\\ 


In 


:\  ( 


394 


PLANTS    AND    ANIMALS. 


,  r 


#'  *  P:  ^  ' 


J » 


II  ^ 


'VI ' 


'    /      ' 


h  f 


n    { 


CATALOGUE  OF  PLANTS  AND  ANIMALS 

Found  ill  the  country  of  the  Ojihhcways ;  with  English  names, 
as  far  as  these  could  be  ascertained. 

Metik-goao — Trees. 
Shin-oo-bekk — Ever  greens,  or  cone  bearing  trees. 

Ma-ni-hik — Norway  pine. 
A-nee-naun-duk — Balsam  fir. 

Kik-kaun-dug — Spruce.  The  black  pheasant  feeds  on  the 
leaves. 

Mus-keeg-wah-tick — Harkmatack,  swamp  wood. 
Kaw-waun-duk — Single  spruce. 
Mis-kwaw-wauk — Red  cedar. 
Ke-zhik — White  cedar. 
Kaw-waw-zheck — Juniper  bushes. 
Kaw-waw-zheeti-sha,  or  Ah-kaw-wun-jc — Ycm. 
Kaw-kaw-ge-wingz — Hemlock  sjiruce. 
Puk-gwun-nah-gfl-muk — White  pine,  (peeling  bark.) 
Shin-gwawk — Yellow  pine. 

Ne-bish-un — Trees  with  broad  leaves. 

Nin-au-tik — Sugar  maple,  (our  own  tree.) 

She-she-gum-maw-wis — River  maple,  (sap  flow.s  fast.) 

Shah-shah-go-be-muk — Lnw-grouiul  maple. 

Moons-omais — Striped  maple,  (moose  wood.) 

Shah-shah-go-be-muk-oons — Spiked  maple,  (little  shah-shali- 
go-be-muk.) 

Wc-gwos — White  birch. 

Weeii-cs-sik — Black  birch. 

Buh-wi-e-me-nin  aw-gaw-wunje — Red  Cherry,  (the  wood  of  tliu 
shaken  down  fruit,  or  berry.) 

Sus-Ruh-way-meen  ah-ga-wunje — Choke  cherry. 

Ruh-wi-me-iiah-ne-gah-wnnje — Black  Cherry. 

.\ai-eo-wim-mc-nuh  ffaw-we./heen — Sand-chcrrv  buphe«. 


I  1,   I 


PLANTS    AND    ANIMALS. 


a95 


;  wood  of  tilt: 


Me-tik-o-meesh,  (Mait-e-ko-nia,  Menomonie) — Black  oak, 
(wood  cup.) 

Meesh-a-mish — White  oak. 

Ah-sah-tia — White  poplar. 

Mah-nu-sah-tia — Balsam  poplar,  (ugly  poplar.)  Mat-heh  me- 
toos — Cree.  Franklin's  narrative,  p.  78. 

Be-zhew-au-tik — Cofl'ce  bean  tree,  (wild  cat  tree.)  Found  only 
'n  the  south. 

Way-miche-ge-meen-ah-ga-wunje — Honey  locust,  southern. 

Uz-zhuh-way-inish — Beech  ;  none  northward  oi"  Mackinac. 

Me-tig-wawb-awk — Smooth  hickory,  (smooth  wood  bow  tree.) 

Nas-kun-nuk-a-koosit  Me-teg-wawb-awk — Hickory,  (rough 
bark  bow  tree.) 

A-necb — Elm,  white. 

0-shah-she-go-pe — Red  elm,  two  varieties :  the  bark  of  ono 
only  used  for  sacks. 

Wa-go-be-mish — Linn,  (bark  tree.) 

Bug-gaun-awk — Black  walnut. 

Ke-no-sha  bug-gaun-awk — Butternut,  (long  walnut.) 

Ahn-za  bug-gaun-awk — Pecan,  southern. 

Suz-zuh-widi-ko-niist — Hackberry. 

As-seme-nun — Pawpaw. 

Boo-e-auk — White  ash. 

We-sug-auk — Black  ash 

Bug-gaun-ne-me-zeesh-ah — Hazle  busli. 

Waw-bun  wah-ko-meczh — White  arrow  wood. 

We-ah-ko-meczh — Arrow  wood. 

Mus-kwaw  be-muk — Red  ozior. 

O-to-pe — Alder.     ()-to-peen — Alders. 

Sisse-go-be-mish — Willow. 

Bug-ga-sah-ne-mish — Plum  tree, 

Mish-she-min-nnh  ga-wunje — Crab  apple  tree. 

Mish-ghe-niin  au-tik — Oab  apple  wood,  or  tree. 

Ne-be-min-ah-ga-wunje — High  cninebi'rry  bush. 

Tah-tah-te-niun-ah-ga-wunje — Black  h:iw  bush. 

Ke-teg-ge-manito — New-Jersey  tea,  (red  root.) 

Koose-gwaw-ko-inizhc-ga-wunje — High  blue  berry  bush. 

0-zhu8k-ko-mi-zheen — Musk  rat  berries. 

Be-mah-gwut — Grape. 


J^^'r'^' 


296 


TLANTii    AND   ANIMALS. 


r' 


if       J: 


«1  '    i 


n'lu 


h^ 


We-gwos-bo-mah-gwut — Bircli  grape. 

Manito-be-niah-gwut,  or  manito-ineeii  i-gah-wunje — Cissus,  u 
climbing  vine,  with  scattered  berries,  somewhat  hke  grapes. 

Mus-ke-ge-min* — Cranberry,  crane  berries,  (swamp  berries.) 

Sa-zah-ko-mc-nah  gah-wah-zheen,  pi. — Saccacommis,  or  arbu- 
tus. The  leaves  of  this  plant,  the  uva  ursa  of  the  shops,  are 
commonly  used  by  the  Ojibbeways,  in  whose  country  it  abounds, 
to  mix  with  their  tobacco. 

Waw-be-ko-meen-aJi-ga-wunje — Nine  bark,  or  spiraw. 

"Wis-seg-ge-bug,  sing,  wis-seg-ge-bug-goon,  pi. — Bitter  leaf;  an 
andromeda,  very  highly  esteemed  by  the  Indians,  as  a  remedy, 
and  by  them  said  to  grow  only  about  the  Grand  Traverse,  in  Lake 
Huron. 

Ne-kim-me-nun — Swamp  whortle  berries. 

Shug-gus-kim-me-nun — Thimble  berries,  or  flowering  rasp- 
berries. 

Kaw-waw-be-ga-koo-zit — White  bark,  a  small  tree  at  Lak<^ 
Traverse. 

Ut-tuh-bc-ga-zhin-nah-gook — A  shrub  said  to  be  found  only  in 
the  north. 

Pah-posh-geshe-gun-au-tik — Red  elder,  (popgun  wood,)  ver\ 
common  about  Me-nau-zhc-taun-naug,  and  the  islands  in  thr 
Lake  of  the  Woods. 

Bwoi-iim-me-nah-ga-wunje — Whortleberry  bush. 

Ne-kim-mc-nah-ga-  wnnje — High  blue  berry  bush. 

Mus-keeg  o-bug-goan — Labrador  tea,  (swamp  leaves,)  one  of 
the  most  esteemed  of  the  products  of  cold  and  swampy  regions  ; 
used  in  decoction  as  tea. 

Pe-boan-meen-ah-gaw-wunje — Winter  berry  bush,  a  prinos, 

Mun-no-mun-ne-chee-beegt — Red  paint  root. 

Me-nais-sa  gaw-wunje — Thorn  apple. 

Buz-zuk-ko-me-nais,  sing.,  buz-zuk-ko-me-nais-ug,  pi. — A  kind 
of  thorn  apple  growing  in  the  north,  which  sometimes  kill  bears 

»  Mns-ge-kwi-iuin-all — Zeis.  p.  83. 


(■'1 


i'i 


t  A  substance  is  brought  by  the  Indians  from  a  place  called  Na-kaw-wudj,  on 
the  shores  of  Lake  Superior,  which,  when  bruised,  imparts  a  bright  carnation 
<  olour.  It  is  a  small  root,  prolably  that  of  a  species  of  Chenopodium,  which  i- 
••'•mctimrfi  met  with  on  the  borders  ofswampn  about  St.  Marks. 


mmmmtii 


'.--    --ii'""?^^'^'^''^'" 


PLANTS    ANU    ANIMALS. 


297 


pes. 
errie8.) 
,  or  arbu- 
liops,  are 
abounds, 

r. 

if  leaf;  an 
1  remedy, 
e,  in  Lake 


ing    rasp- 

e  at  Lak<' 

ind  only  in 

^ood,)  very 
nds  in  thr 


es,)  one  ol' 
>y  regions ; 


when  they  eat  them  in  large  quantities.  The  Indians  suppose 
that  it  is  in  consequence  of  t)ie  strongly  adhesive  quality  of  the 
pulp,  that  they  have  tliis  deleterious  property. 

Meen — Blue  berry  ;  meen-un — Blue  berries,  (fruit.)  This  is  a 
word  that  enters  into  the  composition  of  almost  all  which  are 
used  as  the  names  of  fruits  or  berries  of  any  kind ;  as  me-she- 
min,  or  me-she-mecn,  an  apple,  o-da-c-min,  a  strawberry,  or  heart 
berry,  &c.  The  word  ga-wuuje,  added  to  the  name  of  any  fruit 
or  berry,  iidicatcs  the  wood  or  bush. 

Mcen-ah-ga-wunje — Blue  berry,  or  whortle  berry  bush. 

Ma-ko-meen-ah-ga-wunje — Black  currant  bush. 

Mish-e-je-min-ga-wunje — This  is  a  bush  growing  at  and 
about  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  which  bears  red  currants,  like 
those  of  the  gardens ;  but  the  currants  arv3  beset  thickly  with 
hairs. 

Shah-bo-min-  nil — Goose  berries;  Shah-bo-min  ga-wunje — 
the  bushes. 

Mis-kwa-min — Raspberry  :  mis-kwa-min-nug — Raspberries. 

Gaw-waw-ko-mcesh — Black  raspberries. 

0-dah-tah-gah-go-min — Blackberry  ;  0-dah-tali-gah-go-me-mig' 
— Blackberries. 

Muk-kwo-mc-nug,  or  muk-kwaw-mc-nug — Bear  berries ;  Muk- 
ko-mc-nah-ga-wunjc  — The  mountain  ash,  or  American  service 
tree. 

0-gin-ne-mee-nahga-wunjc — Rose  bush.  The  fruit  is  much 
eaten  in  winter  by  the  starving  Indians  in  the  north. 

All  these  arc  called  Me-tik-goag,  or  woody  plants. 


1  / 


a  pnnos. 


Weah-oush-koan* — Wecis^  or  herbaceous  plants. 


I.— A  kind 
h.s  kill  bears 


Lkaw-wudj,  on 

light  carnation 

lium,  which  i- 


Me-zhus  keen,  (Ma-zhus-koon  of  the  Menomonies) — Grasses. 

Na-bug-U8-koaii — Coarse  swamp  Grass. 

Anah-kun-us-koan — Bull  rush,  (matt  grass.) 

Be-gwa-wuii-us-koan — Soft  coarse  grass.  The  name  of  the 
Be-wi-o-nus-ko  River  and  Lake,  called  Rush  River  on  some  of 
the  maps,  is  from  this  word.  This  word  seems,  in  some  districts. 
to  be  used  as  the  name  of  the  row  parsley. 

•  Probably  from  H'rah-gmh-ke.  dust;  or  that  which  i*  mixed  togethw. 


\r 


'■  i  i 


298 


PLANTS    AND    ANIMALiU 


As-ah-gu-nus-koaii — Biig-gusk — Iri>-. 

Puk-kwi-usk-oge — Flags. 

O-zhusk-gwuf-ie-beeg — INIiiskrat  root,  (a  gratis.) 

The  follow? II if  are  not  called  Mc-zhu3-keeu. 

Muz-zha-nush-koan — Nettles. 

ykib-waw-wc-gusk — Artichoke,  a  species  of  sim  flower. 

Ke-zhe-bun-iish-koau — Rushes. 

O-kun-dum-moge — Pond  lilies. 

Ma-ko-pin,  Ma-ko-pin-eeg,  sin.  and  p!. — Chinkapin,  or  cyainus. 

Waw'-be-ze-pin-neeg — Arrow  head,  (swan  potatoes.)  The 
roots  of  the  common  saggittaria,  as  well  as  the  bulbs  of  some  oi' 
the  crest  flow  i^rirg  lilies,  which  are  eaten  by  the  Indians,  rcceivf 
this  name. 

Mus-ko-ti-pc-neeg — Lily,  (juairie  potatoes.) 

Sah-sah-way-suk — Turkey  potatoes. 

O-kah-tahk— Cicnta. 

Ma-ni-to  O-kah-tahk — Sison.'  heracleum  .' 

O-saw-wns-kwun-wees — Green  small  balls. 

Siig-gut-ta-bo-way — Sticking  burs  ;  hounds  tongues,  tScc 

Nah-nia-wiisk — Spear  mint,  (sturgeon  medicine.) 

Wis-se-giche-bik — Indian's  physic,  (bitter  root;  Callistachiit.) 

Mis-kwe-wis-chc-bc-kilg-guk — Blood  root. 

A-zhush-a-way-skuk — Square  stem  scrophularia. 

Bc-zhew-wusk — Wild  cat  medicine. 

Ke-na-beek-o-me-nun — Snake  berries  ;  Dracaena  borealiy. 

Main-wake — Angelica,  or  cow  parsley. 

Me-(ush-koo-se-n>in  —Apjde  of  the  Prairie  of  the  Canadians. 
(Psorulia,)  much  eaten  by  the  Crecs  and  Assiinieboin.s,  in  whoM 
country  it  abounds. 

Mah-nom-o-negah-wah-zhecn,  pi. — Wild  rice,  (the  grass.) 

Muk-koose-e-mee-nun — Yomig  bear's  berries. 

We-nis-se-buff-goon — Wintergrecn. 

Mus-kee-go-bug-goon — Swan)p  winter  green;  perhaps  the  lit 
tie  rough  wintergrcon. 

Be-na-bug-goon — Partridge  flower. 

Mus-ke-gway-me-taus — Side  saddle  flower,  (swamp  bottles,  in 
allusion  to  the  pitcher  shaped  leaves.)* 

*  More  probubly  compoumlej  of  Muh-kt-cg,  (a  swamp,)  uiid  Mi -l;iiis,  (nlr;: 
tjin,)  from  \^*  rpsi'inblHnce  folhf*  Icjijins  worn  by  the  Iiit?i.in^ 


I  I 


V   > 


X 


cr. 


)rcyamu>. 
es.)  Thr 
of  some  ol" 
ns,  rcccivf 


borcali:^. 


(ic  grass.) 
[rliaps  tlic  lii 
up  bottles,  ill 


ri.ANi-  .\M<  A  -,ni.vi> 


•JO'.t 


:\luk-kud-(Ja-\ve-cho-be-kiig-gul; — Black  iooi>. 

Ta-ta-sis-koo-see-men — The  flower  that  follows  tlie  sun. 

Pe-zhe-kc-wu.sk — Bullaloe  medicine.     Wild  carrot  ? 

Shc-wa-bug-goon — Sweet  cicely,  (sour  leaf.) 

A-nich-e-mc-nun — Wild  pea  vine. 

O-da-na-me-na-gaw-wun-zhecn,  pi. — Strawberry  vines. 

Se-bwoi-gim-nuk — Corn  stalks,  (chaw  sweet.) 

0-pin — Potatoe.     0-pin-neeg — Potatoes. 

O-guis-c-mauu — Squashes.  O-zaw-waw-o-guis-se-maun — Yel- 
low squashes. 

Mis-kwo-de-sc-min — Be«n.     Mis-kwo-dc-se-me-iiug — Beans. 

As-ke-tuin-moon^ — Melons. 

(jitche-un-ne-beesii — Cabbage,  (big  leaf.)     tiitche-ne-beesh-uu 
-great  leaves. 

Skush-kun-iluh-niin-ne-kvvi-iik — Plantain  ;  the  leaves  of  thi- 
arc  particularly  observed  by  hunter,  as  they  show,  better  than 
any  thing  else,  the  age  of  the  tracks  of  game. 

Shig-gau-ga-uin-zheeg,*  pi. — Onions,  (•^knnk  weeds.) 

0-kau-tauk — farrot<. 

Kitche-mus-kc-ke-mcen — lied  pepper,  (lireat  medicine  berry.) 

Ba-se-kwuuK — This  is  a  red  aslringenl  luot,  much  valued  b) 
ihe  Indians,  as  an  application  to  wounds.     Aveiis  root? 

Shah-bo-ze-gim — Milkweed.  'I'hc  Ojibbeway  word  signitie> 
purffatifc, 

Waw-be-no-wusk — Yarrow,  (Wawbeno  n\edicine.) 

Ke-zhe-bun-ush-kon-sun — Stnall  rushes,  in  prairie. 

Nah-nah-gun-o-wushk — Fern.  .\ah-nah-<Tim-ne-wtish-koan  — 
Ferns. 

We-se-bain-jah-ko-nun — I  .-nac(j. 

Wah-ko-nug — Lichi  n^  ;  the  edible  gyrophora. 

Ween-de-go-wah-ko-nug — (Jyrophora  inedible. 

Waw-bah-sah-ko-nick — Spliairiutn,  used  by  the  women  t(t 
make  a  bed  for  young  childrrn. 

Ah-sah-ko-mik — Marchantia,  and  green  mosses,  on  the  idiady 
sides  of  trees. 

0-zliusk-kwa-toan-suk — Iltiindeer  moss,  citrariac,  &,c. 

*  From  Shig-gaa-ga-uinjc,  this  woni,  ia  tin'  siiicrular  numbrr,  some  derive 
Iho  name  Chikago,  which  is  commonly  i)roiioiiiici  .1  by  tho  Indians  Shig'-f^au-ic 
-•  Shie^-gau-f^o-onsf,  at  Chikajio. 


/?•-  **r 


sm 


I'LAMS  AND  ANIMAL?. 

0-zm:sH-KWA-To-wiTG — Fvmri- 


r>„if  iH 


•■ 


Waw-but-to — Pine  touch-wood. 

Me-tik-o-mish  0-zhusk-kwa-to-\viig — White  oak  touch-wood- 
much  used  to  burn  mortars  for  pounding  corn. 

Sug-guh-tah-gun — Spunk. 

Je-bi-e-push-kwa-e-gun — Xylostroma ;  dead  peo»  le's  mocca- 
sin leather,  is  the  literal  meaning  of  this  word,  which  is  applied 
to  the  leather-like  substance  in  the  iissurcs  of  old  trees. 

0-je-bi-e-muk-ke-zin — Ghost  or  spirit  moccasin;  puff  ball; 
dead  man's  shoe ;  sometimes  called  Anung-wug — stars. 

Aii-WES-siE-uo* — Animals. 

The  diminutive  termination  is  used  for  the  young  of  animak, 
and  is,  in  the  Ottawwaw  dialect,  generally  in  the  sound  of  ns,  or 
7ice,  when  the  noun  ends  with  a  vowel.  Thus;,  Gwin-gwaw-ah- 
ga,  a.  wolverene;  Gwin-gxLiaw-ali-gaincc,  a  young  wolverene; 
the  c,  in  the  last  syllable,  retaining  the  same  sound  as  in  the 
word  without  the  diminutive  termination.  "When  any  distinction 
of  sex  is  made,  it  is  commonly  by  prefixing  the  words  i-ah-ha 
onAno-zha,  very  similar  in  signification  to  our  male  and  female, 
thus  I-ah-ha  Gwin-gwaw-ah-ga,  is  a  male  wolverene ;  No-zha 
(rwin-gwaw-ah-ga,  a  female  wolverene. 

G\vin-gwaw-ah-ga — Wolverene,  (tough  beast.)  Carcajou. 
French,  northern  glutton,  a  very  sagacious  and  mischievous 
animal,  but  not  of  common  occurrence ;  now  principally  found 
among  the  lakes. 

Na-nah-pah-je-nc-ka-se — A  mole  ?  (foot  wrong  way.) 
Bo-taich-che-pin-gwis-sa — Gopher,  (blow  up  the  ground.) 
Manito  Muk-kwaw — Great  grizzly  bear,  always  found  in  tlic 
prairie. 

Ma-mis-ko-gah-zhe-muk-kwaw — Red  nail  bear;  very  fierce  ami 
dangerous,  more  feared  by  the  Indians  than  the  former,  who  very 
rarely  attacks  a  man,  unless  wounded  ;  but  the  red  nailed  bear 
attacks  when  unprovoked,  and  pursues  with  great  speed.  }[•■ 
lives  in  rocky  places  in  woods. 


*  A-wes-sie-sae,  Del.  Zeisb.  2d  ed.  p.  46. 


MHttMli 


ruffs^ 


I'l-ANTS  A\U  AMMALJS. 


Ml 


ach-vvo  Oti- 


s's  mocca- 
.  is  applied 
s. 
puff  ball; 


of  animals, 
mil  of  ns,  or 
in-gwaw-ah- 

wolverene ; 
id  as  in  the 
ly  distinction 
vords  i-ah-ho 

anAfemaki 
cne;  No-zho 

Carcajou, 
miseliievons 
cipally  found 

ay.) 

ground.) 
found  in  tlif 

ery  fierce  and 
iier,  who  ver\ 
cd  nailed  bear 
at  speed.    H<' 


J  Badger. 


Muk-kwaw — Common  bear ;  Ou-wash-ah,  of  the  Menomonics. 

Muk-koons,  or  Muk-koonce — Cub ;  Ou-wa-sha'Sha,  of  the  Me- 
nomonies. 

I-aw-ha-koons  and  No-zha-koons,  are  used  by  the  Ottawwaws 
and  Ojibbeways  to  distinguish  the  male  and  female  bear,  where 
the  Menomonies  would  use  Ou-xca-shah  E-nai-ne-wow  and  On- 
wa-shah  Ma-tai-mo-sh uh. 

Me-tun-nusk,  Ojib. — Toothless, 

Mish-she-mo-nalj-na,  Ott. — Great  burrower, 

Mus-ko-tai  Chil-ta-mo — Prairie  squirrel. 

Mus-ko-tai  Ah-gwin-gwoos — Prairie  striped  squirrel ;  smail 
squirrel,  with  stripes  and  spots,  burrowing  in  the  prairie,  some- 
times with  the  chittamo. 

Ah-gwin-gwoos — Cliijiping  squirrel. 

Atch-e-ilah-mo — Red  squirrel. 

O-zhug-gus-kon-duh-wa — Flying  squirrel,  (strikes  flat  on  a 
tree.) 

Sun-nah-go,  and  Muk-kud-da  As-sun-nah-go,  and  Mis-kwaw- 
sun-nah-go — The  grey,  black,  and  fox  squirrels,  not  found  in  the 
country  north  of  Lake  Superior. 

Uk-kuk-koo-jees — Ground  hog,  smaller  than  in  the  states. 

Me-sau-boos — Hare,  white  in  winter. 

Waw-boos — Rabbit.  Meezh-way,  Meezh-way-ug,  sin.  and 
pi. — Southern  rabbit. 

Pish-tah-te-koosh — Antelope.  This  is  reckoned  the  fleetest 
animal  in  the  prairie  country,  about  the  Assinneboin. 

Pe-zhe-ke — Buffaloe.  No-zha-zha-pe-zhe-ke — A  cow  that  has 
a  young  calf  following  her.  0-neen-jah-nis-pe-zhe-ke — Farrow 
cow. 

Jah-ba-pe-zhe-ke — Bull.  Pe-zhe-keence — A  young  calf. 
0-saw-waw  Koo-shance — A  cal^  while  the  hair  is  red.  Poo- 
nah-koosh — Calf,  a  year  old.  Ah-ne-ka-boo-nah-koosh — Two 
years  old. 

Gitche-pe-zhe-ke — Fossil  mammoth. 

Ma-nah-tik — Big  horn. 

Gitche-mah-nish-tah-nish  -Rocky  mountain  sheep. 


M. 


■^Ic.^ 


iil 


t'l.AN'is  AM)  A.MMAI  >. 


An-ne-moo-shug — Doga. 


t   . 


I« 


Small  wolf,  in  prairie  countries. 


Na-ne-mo-w  liy,  Ott. 
Mish-luh-lah-si,  Ojib. 
Mi-een-gun-iiug — ("omnion  wolves. 
Mi-een-gun — Common  wolf. 
Muk-liii(l-da-mi-ecn-gun — Black  wolf. 
Waw-be-mi-een-gun — White  wolf. 
Shoon-slio — Long  eared  hound. 
An-ne-moosh — Common  dog. 
Ta-tah-koo-gaut-ta-was-sim — Short  leg  dog. 
Be-gwi-wa-was-sim — Long  haired  dog ;  Newfoundland. 
Ke-wis-kwa-mi-een-gun-nug — Mad  wolves,   sometimes  .sorii. 
hut  rarely  bite,  unless  attacked! 


Waw-goo-shvg — Foxc.-'. 


If     ^f      I 


O-saw-waw-goosh — Common  red  fox. 
Muk-kud-da-waw-goosh — Black  fox. 
Muk-kud-da-waw-goo-sliug — Black  foxes. 
Wa-whaw-goosh — White  fox,  fur  long,  but  of  no  value. 
Ne-ke-kwa-tug-gah-wa-waw-goosh — Grey  fox. 
Pis-tat-te-moosh — Swift  fox,  (small  dog.) 


m    'mi 


Kah-zhc-gainse — Common  house  cat,  (little  glutton.) 

Pe-zhcw — Wild  cat. 

Ke-tah-gah-pe-zhew — Lynx,  (spotted  wild  cat.) 

Me-she-pe-zhew — Panther,  (big  wild  cat.) 

Ah-nieek — Beaver.      Naub-ah-meek — Male  beaver.      Noazli- 

ah-meek — Female  beaver.     Ah-meek-koanse — Young  beaver. 

Kin-waw-no-wish-shug,  Cree,  }  m     ^ 

^.  ,   ,     ,  ,  I       •     ^v ■■,    I  Black  tailed  deer. 

Muk-kud-da-waw-wasli-gais,  Ojib.  ) 

Waw-wash-gais — Red  or  Virginian  deer. 

O-mush-kooiis,  Ojib. 

Me-sha-wav,  Ottaw.      /        i      o    i       •  c 

•  t      iMe  Saskawjawun,«Scc. 

W^aw-was-kesli,  l-ree,  J 

Ah-dik--Rein(lcer.     Ca-ri-bou,  French.     The  feet  very  larirc 

and  broad,  fitting  the  animal  to  travel  over  smooth  ice,  or  dec  p 

snow;  fmuid  on  all  the  >^lini(s  of  Lake  Superior,  and  sometinn > 


^  Elk.     On  Red  River,  Mouse  Rivtr. 


.V 


PLANTS  AND  AMMAL^. 


'M\i 


fies. 


anil, 
limes  sefi'' 


;&\\io. 


Ion.) 


Ivcr.     ISoazli- 
ing  beaver. 

deer. 
Imousc  Rivti, 

red  very  larii*' 
\h  ice,  or  dcq« 
land  sometini. . 


.It  the  upper  end  of  Lake  Huron ;    but  most  IVcquent  farther 
north. 

Mooze,  or  Moonec,  Ojib.  )  Moose.     Tlie  nasal  sound,  at  the 

Moon-swah,  ('roe,  S  end    of  this  word,  is  common  in 

these  dialects  ;  but  it  is  didicult  to  represent,  by  the  letters  of 
our  alphabet. 

I-aw-ba-mooze — Buck   moose.     No-zha-mooze — Deer  moose. 
Moonze-aince — Little  moose,  &,c. 

A-yance — Opossum,  only  in  the  south.     The  word  a-yance, 
means  crafty. 

Shin-goos — Weasel,  two  kinds. 

Shin-goo-sug — Weasels. 

Ne-gik — Otter.     Ne-gik-wug — Otters. 

Kwaush-kwaush-ko-tah-be-ko-sheezh. 

Kecn-waw-no-wa    waw-Avaw-bc-gun-o-jc — Long   tail   leaping 
mouse. 

Waw-waw-bc-gun-o-je — blouse. 

Ah-mik-waw-waw-be-gun-o-je — Reaver,  or  diving  mouse. 

Kah-ge-bin-gwaw-kwa — Shrew.     Two  species    are   conmioti 
about  St.  Maries,  in  Avinter. 

Kahg — Porcupine.*     Kahg-wug — Porcupines. 

Shong-gwa-she — Mink. 

Wah-be-zha-she — Marten.     Woapckccs,  Z.  p.  IH, 

A-se-bun — Raccoon. 

She-gahg — Skunk. 

O-zhusk — Muskrat. 

Ah-puk-kwon-ah-je — Bat. 

O-jeeg — Fisher  weasel,  a  very  stupid  animal,  easy  to  kill. 

*  The  j'oung  of  tluK  aniinni,  if  taken  out  of  the  uterus  with  care  immcdiati'ly  oi  i 
killing  the  dam,  and  put  upon  a  tree,  will  cling  to  it,  and  otlrn  live.  The  Indinns 
relate,  that  the  porcupines,  in  the  prairie  countries  of  tht  north,  pasi?  the  winter.-^ 
on  oak  trees,  where  they  oftentimes  have  no  hole,  or  any  other  protection  from 
the  weather,  than  is  atForded  by  the  trunk  of  the  tree.  'I'hey  strip  all  the  hark  oil' 
one  tree,  before  they  go  to  search  for  another,  and  one  may  pass  the  greater  part  of 
the  winter  on  a  single  tree,  if  it  happens  to  be  a  lartrp  one.  They  also  pretend  ti) 
latten  the  porcupine  in  the  summer,  whenever  they  r:\n  i'md  him  in  some  hole, 
where  he  has  cimstructed  his  nest,  which  is  of  his  own  excrement.  This,  they 
s.iy,  he  eats,  and  never  fails,  when  tlius  confined,  to  beeon\e  very  fat.  The  por- 
I'upine  is  not  disposed  to  make  any  other  resistance,  when  attacked  by  a  man,  than 
Ids  spiny  skin  aflbrds,  and  the  Indians  have  a  saying  of  this  anima],  and  of  the  ra!  • 
liit.  that  those  whom  they  bite  will  live  to  a  irreat  a^v. 


,v*- 


^-i!r1 


304 


PLANTS  ANU  ANIMALS. 


Ba-bah-mo-ta-jf.eg — Reptiles. 


Nau-to-way — Thick,  short  rattle  snake.  [Sha-no-wc-naw — 
The  rattier  ?] 

She-she-gwa — Common  rattle  snake.  Both  these  arc  occa- 
sionally kept  tame  by  the  Indians.  They  sometimes  make  feasts 
to  them,  and  they  are  said  to  be  very  docile  and  intelligent. 

Me-tik-o-she-she-gwa — Adder. 

Na-wa — Moccasin  snake. 

Pih-kim — Prairie  snake.  At  the  head  of  Mouse  River,  and  in 
the  prairies  towanis  the  Missouri,  these  snakes  are  more  than  six 
feet  long,  and  proportionably  large.  Pih-kun-un  are  common 
snakes,  but  never  half  so  large  as  the  above. 

Mis-kwan-dib — Red  head  ;  copper  snake  ? 

0-zha-\vus-ko  Ke-na-beek — Green  snake. 

Muk-kud-da  Ke-na-beek — Black  snake. 

O-mus-sun-dum-mo — Water  snake. 

Wa-in-jc-tah  Ke-na-beek — Garter  snake,  (right  or  true  ge-Uii- 
bik.) 

0-kaute  Ke-na-beek — Lizzard,  (legged  snake.) 

Gee-kut-tiHi-naung — Lizzard  of  some  kind. 

Que-\ve-zains — Little  boy,  (also  a  lizzard.) 

Nib-be-kc  O-muh-kuk-kc — Orbicular  lizzard?  (medicine frog. j 

Wain-jc-tah  O-muh-kuk-ke — Right  frogs,  or  common  frog. 

Dain-(la — Bull  frog,  and  hannie,  Z.  19. 

Mis-ko-muh-kuk-ke — Red  toad.* 

Be-go-muh-kuk-kc — C'ommon  toads.  These  two  last,  at  tlu 
approach  of  winter,  place  themselves  erect  on  the  surface  of  thf 
ground,  on  their  hams,  and  by  turning  themselves  round  and 
round,  they  sink  into  the  ground,  which  closes  over  them,  and 
they  keep  below  the  frost.  They  are  often  found,  several  within 
two  or  three  feet  of  each  other,  buried  deep  in  the  earth,  but 
keeping  constantly  their  heads  erect. 

0-shaw-wus-ko-muh-kuk-ke — Tree  frog. 

Me-zhc-ka,  Ottaw. 

Me-kin-nauk,  Oji 

Ta-ta-be-ko-nauk — Soft  shelled  tortoise. 


jib.  \  ^""'^^ 


tortoise. 


♦  Prom  O-muk-kuk-ke,  (Uy&A,)ajaA  Ah-koo-se-win,  (sickness,)  is  probably  d«- 
rmvlthe  \'nrd  Ma-muk-ke-zc-win,  (the  small  pox."^ 


i-wc-naw — 

e  arc  occa- 
make  feasts 
Uigcnt. 

liver,  and  in 
nore  than  six 
are  common 


or  true  gc-u,>- 


medicinetVog.i 
)mmon  frog. 

Lwo  last,  at  till 
^e  surface  of  the 
Ives  round  and 
over  them,  and 
I,  several  within 
the  earth,  but 


less,)  is  pw^*^'^''*" 


Winter  hawli. 


P1.AM6  AND  AMMAl.S. 

l5oort-kut-la-\vi.sh — A  tortoise  with  roimild(i|i  sliell-:. 
Mis-kwaw-tais-sa — Terrapin. 
Siig-gus-kwaw-ge-iuii — Leech. 

Be-nais-se-wug — yj/'n/.v. 

Ive-neu — War  eagle  ;  the  master  of  all  bird  <. 

Me-giz-ze — White  hcadod  eagle.     Me-giz-ze-wiig,  plural 

Ka-kaik — Spotted  iiawk. 

nc-ho-no-sa,  Otta\v.  ^ 

Ke-bu-niiz-/e,  Ojih.  ^ 

No-je-ke-na-bcck-we-zis-sc — Marsh  hawk,  (snake  eating.) 

Wa-l>e-no-ie  Ke-na-beck-we-zis-sc — White  marsh  hawk. 

Mis-ko-na-ne-sa — lied  tail  hawk. 

Pish-kc-ne\i — Black  tail  hawk. 

Muk-kud-da-kc-neu — Black  liawk. 

J5ub-be-nng-go — Spotted  tail  hawk. 

['r-na-sern's — Small  pheasant  hawk. 

Clia-ecn-sa — A  small  hawk,  so  namtul  IVoui  ils  er\ . 

I'e-pe-gc-wiz-zain's — Smallest  hawk. 

VVe-nong-ga — Turkey  buzzard. 

Kah-gah-ge,  Ojib.       i 

dau-ffau-ge-she,  Ott.  ) 


On-daiu; — Crow.     On-daie-wno — (^rows. 

As-sig-ge-nawk — Black  bird. 

Mis-ko-min-gwe-gun-nah  Sig-go-nank — Ktil  wing  blackbird. 

O-pish-kah-gah-gc — Magpie.  O-pish-kah-gah-ge-wug — Mag- 
jiios. 

Gwcen-gwe-slia — Similar  in  habits  and  locality  to  the  former, 
nnd  closely  resembling,  in  size  and  colour,  the  following.* 

Teen-dc-se — Blue  jay.  These  begin  to  lay  their  eggs  before 
the  snoAV  is  off  the  ground  in  the  spring. 

Bc-gwuk-ko-kwa  o-wais-sa — Thrush. 

*  The  Gwpcn-gwc-sha  is  met  with  about  the  Saut  DeSt.  Marie,  in  the  winter 
season.  It  is  a  littie  smaller  than  tlie  bhio  jay,  and  of  a  icaJen  eolonr  on  the  twck, 
the  lower  part  of  the  nerk,  and  the  wings ;  a  few  of  the  feathers  about  the  belly 
arc  a  dirty  wliite  above,  but  plumbeous  below,  as  are  those  on  the  forward  part  of 
the  neck,  and  about  the  insertion  of  the  beak.  It  appears  to  be  the  Cormis  Ca- 
''vknsu!o(  Rees'  Cyclop.  It  is  snid  to  have  been  found  as  far  south  in  tli« 
Iiiili'il  Ststrs,  as  the  Lilllf' FiiIIh  ofllie  Mohawk. 

:{0 


Kah-gah-ge- wug 


3oa 


PIANTS    AND   ANIMALS. 


r..      V; 


Ah-luk — Similar  to  the  tlirinh  in  habits. 

W«?cii-dr-}To  bc-nais-HH — Kinir  bird,  (the  bird  that  eats  his  own 
Kind.) 

O-pe-oIic* — Robin. 

Ma-mah-t\va — Cat  bird. 

diaum-ma-wai«-shc — Anothc:  ol'  the  same  size. 

Kos-ko3-ko-na-rhini^ — firoiind  bird  ?  A  small  bird  so  named 
iroin  its  note.  * 

Put-fas-se-uis. 

AVaw-bc-uing-ko-su — Snow  birds. 

Che-ki-chc-gau-na-sa — A  very  small  lively  bird,  peculiar  to  the 
jiorth. 

Mis-kobr-na-sa — Red  bird. 

Sa-ija-bun-wau-nis-sa — Waxen  cliattercr. 


J 


■  'I'liis  sociiil  little  hial  srpjiis  to  bn  uot  less  tlw  fiivoiiritc  and  comp;iiiion  of  llip 
Indian  than  of  tlir  wliiti'  man.  Tliry  relate,  that  long  ago,  t^oon  after  Nanabush 
bad  made  the  ground,  fhorc  was  an  old  chief,  a  great  and  j;tK)d  man,  who,  with  hi-, 
wife,  had  one  son.  Uut  this  young  man  disrcfjardetl  the  advice  and  adnionitinns 
of  his  [larent.s ;  particularly  he  neglected  to  fast  and  pny,  as  all  young  men  anil 
women  are  enjoined  to  do.  For  many  successive  days,  had  his  father  pr«>senlrd 
him  hi;!  breakfast  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  offered  charcoals  with  which  lu 
paint  his  fi»cc ;  but  the  ungracious  son  had  steadily  preferred  the  venison,  or  thn 
broth,  to  the  coals.  One  morning  hii  directed  the  old  woman  to  mako  a  choice 
kettle  of  Mun-ilah-min-uw-bo,  or  corn  broth,  and  taking  a  bowl  full  of  it  in  one 
hand,  and  as  nnual  some  coals  in  the  other,  he  presented  them  both  to  his  son.  Tlu' 
young  man  chtwsnng  the  broth,  the  father  returned  to  the  fire  place,  atid  takini;  ,i 
handful  of  ashes,  thri'w  it  into  the  bowl.  The  young  man  then  took  the  coals,  aiid 
rubbing  them  in  hi.s  hands,  jiainted  his  face,  and  retired  to  the  bushes  near  bj 
After  he  had  lain  thri-e  or  four  days,  his  father  ofliTed  him  something  to  eat,  but 
he  would  not  accept  it.  Thi.-.  was  rcptated  from  time  to  time,  until  the  t«mth  day  ; 
then  the  young  man  still  reniuiTiing  in  the  buslus,  cidled  his  father,  and  his  niotluT, 
and  his  relatives,  and  addressed  them  thus  :  "  .My  friends,  it  has  liei'ii  unpleasant 
to  you  to  see  me  eat  so  much  as  I  have  e^iten  ;  hcreafler  I  shall  eat  less ;  but  altlinurrli 
I  can  no  longer  live  with  you  in  the  lodge,  I  shall  remain  near  yon,  and  it  shall  be 
my  busines.s  lo  forwam  you  when  any  stranger  is  B])proaching."  He  then  took 
some  red  paint,  and  put  it  on  his  face  and  hi-*  breast,  to  signify  that  his  fast  was 
finished,  and  was  immediately  changed  to  a  bird  calle<l  0-i)e-c,he.  Still  he  deligliLs 
to  live  near  the  lotlgesof  those  who  were  his  relatives;  and  oftentimes  lakini^a 
iitand  on  the  highest  branch  of  a  tree,  Ii(>  cries  out  n'doini-wateh-i'-go,  n'lloati 
nutch-e-go,  to  forelel  that  someone  is  coming.  Ibit  having  found  that  his  pn 
diction  often  proves  falsi-,  he  is  ashamed  as  soon  as  he  lias  uttered  it,  and  llyin^'. 
down,  he  hides  hiiii'-elf  ir\  thick  tiushc.  <>r  on  the  ground,  crying  o\if  chel  civ' 
^he!  rhe! 


\     . 


,8  his  own 


I  so  named 


culiav  to  tlic 


flmpuuioiioftlip 
after  Nanabush 
111,  who,  with  \i\> 
uiul  adnioniliciis 
1  yoiinj?  men  and 
s  fiitlioT  prfscntrd 
a\s  with  whicli  lu 
10  veniBon,  or  Ww. 
to  make  a  choic- 
,\  fuU  of  it  in  one 
ithlohisson.  'I'lif 
Llaor,  and  tailing  » 
[look  the  coiilx,  and 
L-  bushes  nrar  by. 
acthins  •"  <'a'i  ''"<■ 
nlil  the  Uinth  duy  ; 
IcT,  niiJ  hit*  nuilht'v, 
a  botMi  unjdcasiint 
Irs't ;  but  alllioupli 
[you,  and  it  shall  I)*' 
ijT."     He  then  li>>V 
[y  llnit  hirt  tas-l  was 
Still  he d«ligUt--i 
(flontimes  taking  a 
iitoUi'H".  "''!«•'" 
„\md  that  hisi'f> 
[dred  It,  and  llvmr. 
iii.^  out  i-hel   fh"' 


VI.AXTS    AND    AXIMAl.>'. 

<)-zhah-wus-kobc-na-s:i — Green  bird. 

0-zaw-we-be-na-sa — Yellow  bird. 

Ma-ma — Red  headed  wood  pecker. 

Paw-paw-sa — Spotted  wood  pecker. 

Muk-kud-da  paw-paw-sa — Black  pawpawsa.  The  male  of  this 
kind,  has  a  bright  yellow  spot  on  the  top  of  the  head.  Tliey  are 
found  about  Lake  Superior  in  winter. 

Mo-ning-gwun-na — Yaml,  (highhold.) 

Ke-ke-ba-na — small  spotted  wood  pecker. 

Chc-gaun-do-wais-sa — Brown  wood  pecker,  confined  to  cedar 
countries. 

Shin-go-beek-ai-sa — Cedar  bird. 

Gitchc-o-gish-ke-mun-ne-sa — Great  king  fishrr. 

O-gish-ke-mun-ne-sa* — Common  king  fislirr. 

Shaw -shaw-wa-ne-bais-sa — Swallow. 

0-so-bun-gc-gush. 

0-kun-is-sa — Loxia  enudeator.  found  at  Lake  Superior  in  Feli- 
ruary. 

Pc,  sing.  Pe-ug,  pi. — A  fringillu,  smaller  than  the  waxen  ciiui- 
terer.     The  female  has  a  spot  of  red  on  the  top  of  the  head  ;  tin 
male,  the  whole  head  and  neck  of  the  same  colour.     The  tail 
feathers  are  bent  outwards  near  thr  ends.    Found  about  Lake  Su- 
perior in  the  winter. 

Mara-mah-twa. 

Bosh-kun-dum-moan — Parakeet,  (croch  perons.) 

Moash-kah-o-se  We-kum-mo,  (Menomonie) — Stake  driver, 
(bittern.) 

Kun-nuli  waw-be-mokee-zhis  wais-sa — Fly  up  the  creek,  (s>iu 
^azer.) 

Me-mom-i-ne-ka-she — Rail,  (rice  bird.) 

Pud-(lush-k(»n-zhc — Snipe. 

Gitrhe-pud-dush-kon-zhe — Wood  cock. 

Cni:-cHi;i;^-cHr.-Mi:-fK — Wader.-. 

Mo-voke — ('urliew,  [a  foreign  word.| 
Alus-ko-da  chc-checs-k«-wa — I'plimd  plonr. 

*'  /islvemaiiiH.  /ein.  liii. 


..■?:.*»»-.> 


;J0^ 


IM.ASrs    AMI    AM.MAJ, 


Yh      i 


:    I 


Wain-jc-lah  clic-rliocs-kowa — Yellow  leg  piovrr. 

Che-to-waik — Bull  licad  plover. 

Chc-nhccs-kc-wais — Tern. 

WaM'b-uh-che-chawk — White  Crane. 

0-saw-waw-che-chawk — Sand  hill  crane. 

Mc-zin-sa — Tin-key. 

Be-na — Pheasant. 

Mush-ko-da-sa — Grouse  ;  confined  to  pine  and  cedar  countries, 

Ah-gusk,  ((|jib.)     Ke-waw-nc,  (O  ,.) — Prairie  hen. 

O-nie-me — Pigeon  ;  o-me-ineeg — Pigeons.  Amemi,  Z.  10. 

Ko-KO-KO-OGE* Owls. 

Waw-wain-je  gun-no — Great  horned  owl. 

Wain-jc-tah  koko-koho — Uight  owl. 

Koko-oanse — Little  owl ;  gokhotit,  Z.  IS. 

Bo-dah-wah  doani-ba — Size  of  a  pigeon,  (memhrnm  virile.) 

Kaw-kaw-bc-sha — Bro\rn  owl. 

Wan-be-ko-ko — Snow  owl,  very  Inr^e. 

"Waw-o-nais-sa — Whippooiwill. 

Baish-kwa  — >'ig1it  hawk. 


m 


Sii[>siii>nn. 


■Piid... 


.  V. 


V'f 


■•'.S 


NVaw-be-zco — Gre;\t  Swan. 

Mah-nah-be-zee — Smaller  swan,  not  common.  Their  cry  n 
■iemblcs  the  voire  of  a  man.  The  word  means  ugly  or  ill  look 
Jig  swan. 

Ne-kuh — Brant ;  iir-kug,  pi, 

Pish-ne-kuh — A  smaller  brant. 

Wa-wa — Goose  ;  >Va-\vaig — (Jeese;  Waw-bc-wa-wa — Wliiii 
goose ;   Waw-be-wa-waig — White  geese. 

An-ne-nish-shecb — Unrk  and  mallard. 

Tah-gwaw-ge  she-sheob — Fall  duck,  rod  neck. 

Mah-lo-gun  she-sheeb — Scrajier  bill  duck. 

Scah-mo — Wood  duck. 

Wa-weeb-ge-won-gn — Blue  wing  teal,  (swift  winged.) 


(     ' 


*  Gnklios.  7.  1 1 


\      « 


f  countries. 

,  Z.  i«. 


m  virilo.) 


rheir  iry  i' 
Iv  or  ill  look 


,;,-wa—Wn'' 


Wed.) 


I'LANTS    AND    A.M.HAI-?. 

Ive-uls-tc-no-kwa  sheeb — Crec  woman  duck. 

Muk-kud-da  shecb — Black  duck. 

Kitclie-waw-wc-bif^-wa-wya — Large  blue  wing  duck. 

Pe-gwuk-o-she  sheeb — Large  bill,  or  blunt  arrow  duck  ;  frO!ii 
{)e-gwuk,  the  blunt  or  unbarbed  arrow.  This  species  has  a  largo 
bill,  and  head  of  a  leaden  colour.  They  are  found  throughout 
the  winter,  in  the  rapids  between  Lakes  Superior  and  Huron. 

Ma-muh-tway-ah-ga — Wliistling  wing. 

Kee-no-gwaw-o-wa  sheeb — Long  neck  duck. 

A-ha-wa — House  duck. 

Wah-ka-we  sheeb — White  duck. 

Claw-waw-zhe-koos — Shell  duck. 

Ah-zig-wuk — Fishing  duck. 

Sah-gah-ta — Mud  hen. 

Shin-ge-bis — (trrebc  ;  Gitche-shin-ge-bis — Large  ercr br. 

!Mahng — Loon. 

(\-sha-mahng — Small  loon. 

Gau-gau-geshf!  shecb — Cormoraiil. 

.Sha-da — Pelican  ;  sha-daiir — Pelicans. 

Shub-slnih-<rah — Blue  h(  ron. 

Gi-ArsiiK-wi'G  —Gull.<. 

<iiiche-gi-aushk — Great  gull.  Gi-as-koo-sha  of  the  Oltawwaw>. 
Paush-kaw  gi-aushk — Black  headed  gull. 
Vas-so-waw-gwini-nus-kitte-kwah-gi-aushk — Fork  tailed  gull. 
Muk-kud-da  gi-aushk — Black  gull. 

MAN-E-TOANSE-srCi* — I/lffCCts. 

Bo-dush-kwon-c-she — Large  dragon  tly. 
Bo-dns-kwon-t-shcense — Small  dragon  iK  . 
Gitche-me-ze-zaidit — Largt;  horse  lly. 
M(!-zauk — Cunirnoii  horse  lly. 
Mr-zauk-oons — Nat  lly. 

'  .Mnn-r-loans(<-su;i,  or  iimn-c-toaiisc-ug,  wnall  spirits ;  not  rxartlv  synonoinoin 
):i  tliisniipliciiitoii  with  our  word  insects,  but  usoil  to  tlfsiffuate,  indiscrimiiiatrK , 
ill  very  Hiiiall  aiiiiiuils. 

t  Mesissachowak.  Zci"*.  81. 


^{I0 


VLANTS    AND    ANIMALS, 


K<  ;      > 


jnr 


Gitche-ah-ino — Humble  bee.     Atnoe,  abee,  Z.  10. 

Ah-mo,  sing.,  ali-maag,  pi. — Wasps,  hornets,  &,v. 

Wa\v-\vaw-lais-sa — Lightning  bug. 

An-ne-me-ke  wid-de-koam* — Miller,  sphinx,  thunder's  louse. 

Pah-puk-ke-na — Grasshopper. 

Ad-de-sah-wa-a-she — Locust. 

Mow-wytch-e-ka-se — Beetle,  (dung  worker.) 

Gitche-o-mis-kose — Great  water  bugs. 

0-mis — Common  water  bug. 

Ma-maing-gwah — Butterfly. 

Metig-onishe-moan-ka-she — (He  that  sleeps  in  a  stick.)  Found 
in  the  bottom  of  springs. 

Sha-bo-e-ya-sa — Rowing  water  bug. 

Man-e-toanse  o-ke-te-beeg  pe-me-bui-toan — Literally,  the  little 
f  creature  or]  spirit  that  runs  on  the  water. 

O-mush-ko-se-se-wug — Grass  bugs. 

0-o-chug — Blowing  flies  and  house  flies. 

Sug-ge-ma — Musquito. 

Pin-goosh,  pin-goosh-ains-sug — Gnats  and  sand  flies. 

Alat-wa-nuh-kai-moag — Swarming  flics. 

8ub-be-ka-.Hhe — Spider,  (net  worker.)  A-a-be-ko — Large  bladv 
spider. 

An-e-go — Ant.t 

Mis-ko-manetoanse — A  little  red  bug  common  in  the  north. 

Me-nah-koo-sit  manetoanse — Strawberry  buff. 

Puh-beeg — Flea  ;  Puh-beeg-wug — Fleas. 

Eze-gaug — Tick. 

K-kwuh — Louse  ;  E-kwug — Lice. 


Mo-sAic —  Wornu'i. 

l>-zah-wash-ko-mo-sah — Green  worm. 
Way-muk-kwah-na — Great  catterpillar,  (bear  skin.) 

*  Thin  in  one  of  (hose  chiiutiy  Rphinxes,  or  moths,  that  arc  found  on  thogrouiiii 
in  (lump  weather,  or  after  nhowersof  rain,  ami  the  Indiimn  imuirine  that  they  full 
from  the  Arniimekcfg,  the  brincrs  who.sc  voice  is  the  thunder. 

+  The  Nimtowiiy  Indians  have  a  fable,  of  an  old  man  and  woman  who  watoh'il 
an  aut  lieiip  until  they  saw  the  little  iuHects  i'haiii;ed  to  white  men,  anil  the  eg'."- 
'.vliic'h  tlii'v  c.irrv  in  their  ttionth.v  tn  tides  of  miTi'limidise 


phi- 


*^.iiL>. 


yy<(ff»Tft*y-p  '**^-'  •  '  ^  -^a.    ■  ^^^U 


mmam 


r's  lous^o. 


ck.)  Found 
llv,  the  littli' 


les. 


—Large  blad 
tlie  north. 


|in.) 

iind  on  the  grouii>'. 
Line  that  thoy  fiiU 

Iniin  wlw  watctwM 
noil,  nivl  tlieoec*' 


PLANTS    AND    ANIMAL!". 

Gitche-mo-sa — Great  white  grub ;  gitche-mo-saig,  plural, 
Me-shin-no-kau-tait-mo-sa — MilUpedf. 
Pe-mis-koo-de-scence — Snail. 

Ke-goi-yug — Fishef. 

Nah-ma — Sturgeon. 

Mas-ke-no-zha — Maskenonge,  or  pike. 

O-zhaw-wush-ko  ke-no-zha — Green  pickerel,  only  found  in  tlic 
north. 

Ke-no-zha — Pickerel ;  from  kenose,  long. 

Nahrma-goosh — Trout. 

Na-zhum-ma-goosh — Brook  trout. 

Ne-git-che — Buflaloe  fish. 

Rush-shc-to — Sheeps  head  ;  bush-she-toag,  plural. 

Mon-nuh-she-gun — Black  bass. 

Ad-dik-kum-aig,  (attai-kuin-meeg,  Menom.) — White  fish,  or 
rein-deer  fish ;  from  ad-dik,  rein-deer,  and  gum-maig,  Avater. 

Buh-pug-ga-sa — Large  sucker. 

Mis-kwaw-zhe-gun-no — Red  horse. 

Nah-ma-bin — Sucker ;  Mis-kwun  nah-ma-bin  —Red  sucker. 

TIg-gud-dwawsh — Sun  fish. 

Siih-\va — Perch,  (yellow.)     Sah-waig,  pi. 

0-ka-ali-wis — Fresh  water  herring. 

We-be-chec — A  flat  fish  larger  than  herring;  only  found  in 
Red  River. 

Mon-num-maig — Great  cat  fish. 

Ah-wa-sis-sie — Little  catfish.  The  Indians  say  this  fish  hatches 
its  young  in  a  hole  in  the  mud,  and  that  they  accompany  her  for 
some  time  afterwards. 

Ke-na-beek  gwum-maig — Eel,  (water  snake.) 

0-da-che-gah-oon — Gar. 

Shig-gwum-maig — Shovel  nose  ;  only  in  tlie  Mississippi. 

Kuk-kun-naun-gwi — Littl-.  toad  fish  ;  Lake  Huron. 

0-gah-suk — Little  dories ;  Lake  Huron. 

()-gah — Dory. 

Bug-gwut-tum-mo-goon-suk — These  arc  small  fishes,  tli.'ii 
make  tlicir  appearance  in  ponds  having  no  connexion  with  rivers 
T  lakes,  and  which  are  sometimes  quite  dry.     But  though  tliry 


'3l'i 


M1N£UAL:<. 


t    C! 


all  periali  in  limes  of  drought,  they  re-appear  when  the  pomls 
are  filled. 

Shaw-ga-she — Craw  fish. 

Ais — Clam ;  Ais-sug — Clams. 

Ais-ainsc — Little  clam. 

Mis-koan-su<r — Red  clams. 


\       •, 


I.  •■^ 


-tk.  -ivV 


MINERALS. 

Tliat  the  Indians  are  less  observant  of  inanimate  substances 
tiian  of  organized  beings,  will  be  manifest  from  the  following 
meagre  catalogue  of  minerals. 


>  \ 


r     I    •■, 


Bin-gwaw-beok — Lime  stone,  (ashes  stone.) 

Mat-toat-wah-nah-beek — Granite. 

Aluk-knd-dah-waw-beck — Black  stoiio. 

Mik-k\vuni-me-waw-brek — Wliitc  Flint,  (ice  stone.) 

Pisli-a!>-be«'k — Sulphnret  of  iron.  They  often  find  this  passing 
into  sulphate  of  iron,  and  make  use  of  it  for  dying  black. 

O-poih-guii-irs-sin — Pipe  stone  ;  farther  distinguished  accord- 
ing to  colour. 

(>-ska\v-'<!uii-wa\v-bii'k — (Jneiss,  (vein  stone.) 

Mis-kwaw-siii — Red  sand  ston* . 

(raw-gaw-wusk — Gypsum. 

Waw-bc-gun — While  clay. 

( )-iunn-un — Ochre. 

Mis-kwavv-be-gun — Red  earth. 

0-sa\v-waw-be-i{un — Yellow  eartii, 

Mukkuii-da-wuk-kum-mik — Black  mould. 

Waw-be-gun-uk-kaw — Clay  grouiul. 


mtMm 


W 


lie  ponil? 


substances 
le  following 


H)f  BM!^. 


OF  TOTEMS. 


',i\'.i 


Ahono  the  Indians  of  the  Algonkia  sioek,  every  ntaii  receivet: 
from  his  father  a  totem,  or  family  name.  They  aflfirm  that  no 
man  is,  by  their  customs,  allowed  to  change  his  totem  ;  and  a? 
this  distinctive  mark  descends  to  all  the  children  a  man  may 
have,  as  well  as  to  all  the  prisoners  he  may  take  and  adopt,  it  is 
manifest  that,  like  the  genealogies  of  the  Hebrews,  these  totems 
should  aflford  a  complete  enumeration  of  the  stocks  from  whicli 
all  the  families  have  been  derived.  It  diflfers  not  from  our  insti- 
tution of  surnames,  except  that  the  obligations  of  friendship  and 
hospitality,  and  the  restraint  upon  intermarriage,  which  it  im- 
poses, are  more  scrupulously  regarded.  They  profess  to  con- 
sider it  highly  criminal  for  a  man  to  marry  a  woman  whose  to- 
tem is  the  same  as  his  own;  and  they  relate  instances  where  young 
men,  for  a  violation  of  this  rule,  have  been  put  to  death  by  their 
nearest  relatives.  They  say,  also,  that  those  having  the  samf* 
totem  are  bound,  under  whatever  circumstances,  as  they  meet, 
iven  though  they  should  be  of  different  and  hostile  bands,  to 
treat  each  other  not  only  as  friends,  but  as  brethren,  sisters,  and 
relatives  of  the  same  family. 

Of  the  origin  of  this  institution,  and  of  the  obligation  to  ils 
i^lrict  observance,  the  Indians  profess  to  know  nothing.  They 
say  they  suppose  the  totem  was  given  them  in  the  beginniug,  by 
their  creator.  Like  surnames  among  us,  these  marks  are  now 
numerous  ;  and,  as  in  the  case  of  our  surnames,  it  is  difficult  to 
account  for  their  multiplicity,  without  supposing  a  time  when 
they  might  have  been  changed,  or  new  ones  adopted,  more  easily 
than  at  present. 

It  is  not,  as  yet,  well  ascertained  that  any  of  the  North  Ame- 
rican Indians,  except  those  of  the  Algonkin  family,  have  these 
peculiar  genealogical  marks.  Those  of  the  great  Chippewyan 
family,  in  the  north,  we  are  well  assured,  have  them  not.  From 
long  acquaintance  with  the  Dahcotah  bands  of  the  Mississippi  and 
St.  Peters,  in  which  designation  we  include  the  Hoochawgenah. 
m  Winnebagocs,  and  the  loways,  and  from  a  more  transient  so- 
MMiminfir  ninoii<r  i\w  Otoc^,   the  KaiisR>'.  liic  Omawliawci".   Ihf 

10 


314 


TOTEMS. 


Pawnees,  and  other  western  tribes,  we  have,  with  careful  inquiry 
and  search,  been  able  to  collect  no  intimation  of  such  a  custom 
among  them.  But  of  the  western  Indians  we  cannot  speak  wilh 
entire  confidence,  as  we  recollect  to  have  heard  Renville,  an  in- 
terpreter for  the  Sioux,  after  much  puzzling  and  cross-examina- 
tion, admit  that  something  of  the  kind  might  exist  among  that 
people.  It  may  be  observed,  that  the  Algonkins  believr  all 
other  Indians  to  have  totems,  though,  from  the  necessity  ihcy 
are  in  general  under,  of  remaining  ignorant  of  those  of  hostile 
bands,  the  omission  of  the  totem  in  their  picture  writing,  serves 
to  designate  an  enemy.  Thus,  those  bands  of  Ojibbeways  who 
border  on  the  country  of  the  Dahcotah,  or  Sioux,  always  under- 
stand the  figure  of  a  man  without  totem,  to  mean  one  of  that 
people. 


U.i 


l\:    i   '4 


l/^' 


CATALOGUE  OF  TOTEMS 

Among  the  Ottawwaws  and  Ojibbeways,  with  the  names  of  some 
to  whom  they  belong. 

Muk-kwaw — Bear,  the  totem  of  Pe-ga-gun,  0-shaw-Ava-no,  ami 
0-ka-taw,  chiefs  of  Waw-gun-nuk-kiz-ze. 

Ke-no-zha — Pickerel,  of  A-ko-win-de-ba. 

Ad-dik-kun-maig — White  fish,  of  Wawb-o-jeeg,  (the  wliiir 
fishen) 

Moons — Moose,  of  Naw-o-gcc-zhik,  (in  the  middle  of  the  sky.) 
This  is  said  to  be  the  original  totem  of  the  Ottawwaws  ;  havins? 
received  many  accessions  of  people  Aom  other  bands,  many 
other  totems  have  been  derived  from  them,  and  are  now  inter- 
mixed with  the  original  stock. 

Ad-dik — Rein  deer,  o<"Ma-mi-ah-jun,  (he  that  goes.) 

Mahng — A  loon,  of  Too-beesh. 

Me-giz-ze — White  headed  eagle,  of  Me-zhuk-kwun-na-no. 

Ka-kaik — Henhawk,  of  0-ge-mah-",ve-nin-ne. 

Pe-pe-ge-wiz-zains — Sparrow  hawk,  of  Muk-kud-da-be-na-sa. 

Ah-meek — Beaver,  of  Wa-me-gon-a-bicw  and  Net-no-kwa 

MDs-sun-dum-mo — Water  snake,  of  0-kin-je-wun-no,  Sin-iK  • 
wav,  &c. 


:^^'.{. 


'u\  inquiry 
1  a  custom 
speak  with 
iUe,  an  in- 
,s-examina- 
among  that 
believe  all 
cessity  they 
e  of  hostile 
iting,  serves 
jeways  who 
[ways  under- 
one  of  that 


tames  of  some 
law-wa-no,  ami 

jg,  (the  while 

Idle  of  the  sky.) 
waws;  having 
[r  bands,  many 

are  now  inter- 
rocs.) 

mn-na-no. 

vud-da-be-na-sa. 
iNct-no-kwa 
Lun-no,  Sin-i» 


rOTEMS. 


Forked  tree,  of  Ke-me-wun,  O-jee^,  &c. 

Gi-oshk — Gull,  of  Puh-koo-se-gun. 

Ad-je-jawk — Crane,  of  Au-da-menc. 

Nah-ma-bin — Sucker,  of  Nain-noh-we-ton. 

Pe-zhew — Wild  cat :  common  totem  among  the  Muskegoes, 

Ah-wa-sis-se — Smah  fish,  ofMatche-kwe-we-zainse.  Some- 
times they  call  the  people  of  this  totem,  "  those  who  carry  their 
young,"  from  the  habits  of  the  small  cat  fish. 

She-she-gwun — Rattle  snake  ;  the  totem  of  Gish-kaw-ko,  Ma- 
nito-o-geezhik,  &.c.  and  by  tliem  given  to  Tanner. 

Many  more  might  be  enumerated,  but  these  are  sufficient  to 
give  an  idea  of  the  kinds  of  objects  from  which  they  choose  to 
derive  their  names.  The  trivial  or  common  name  of  a  man  may 
be,  and  often  is,  changed  on  his  going  to  war,  or  at  the  occur- 
rence of  any  remarkable  event ;  but  the  totem  is  never  changed. 
It  is  not  true,  that  they  have,  in  all  instances,  the  figure  of  what- 
ever may  be  their  totem  always  tattooed  on  some  part  of  their 
body,  nor  that  they  carry  about  them  a  skin,  or  any  other  mark, 
by  which  it  may  be  immediately  recognised.  Though  they  may 
sometimes  do  this,  they  are,  in  other  instances,  when  they  meet 
as  strangers,  compelled  to  inquire  of  each  other  their  respectivf. 
totems.* 

■  The  tribes  known  to  the  Ottawwaws,  are  by  them  denonunateJ  as  follows  :— 

1.  Ottawwawwug,  Ottawwaws,    ^  ,  ,    .    ,. 

2.  Ojibbewaig,  Ojibbeways,  {  ^'^^^^  ""'"  "»  "^  ?*«*  ^""^^  '""^  ^^"'^  '^'^' 

3.  Potiwattimeeg,  Potiwattomies,  >     '*'''  '"^  ^"^^'"- 

4.  Kekaupoag,  Kickapoos. 

5.  Oshawanoag,  Shawnecse,  or  southern  people. 
G.  Wawbunukkeeg,  Stockbiidge,  or  white  tops. 

7.  Muskotanje,  Muskantins  of  the  early  French  writers;  formerly  lived  at 
Wawkwunkizzp,  whence  they  were  driven  by  the  Ottawwaws,  and  the  latter  now 
consider  them  as  lost.  By  some  they  are  supposed  to  have  been  a  band  of  Poti- 
wattomies ;  but  the  Ottawwaws  enumerate  them  as  a  distinct  people. 

8.  Osaugeeg,  Sankcwi. 

9.  Mahnomoneeg,  Mcnomonies,  (wild  rice  people.) 

10.  Kneestenoag,  Crees.    They  are  said  to  call  themselves  Nahhahwuk. 

11.  Muskegoag,  Muskegoes,  (swamp  people.) 

12.  Muskegoag,  Nopcmit  Azhinnenecg,  or  Nopemetus  Aninceg,  (bark  woe' . 
people,)  a  second  relationship  of  Muskegoes. 

13.  Sheshcbug,  Ducks. 
11.  Bowwetegoweninnewug,  FalllnJians. 


^   ; 


aitt 


K-VOWLEUOE  OK  AI^1U0^0MV. 


'I'lic  word  totem  is  of  the  Ojibbeway  languiigc,  and,  like  almost 
all  others,  is  readily  moulded  into  the  form  of  a  verb,  as  will  ap- 
pear from  the  following  examples  : — 

Ah-neen  en-dah  che-un-net,  0>to-tem-e>waun  maun-duh-pe ' 

How  maiiy  arc  these  are  totems  here? 

HoA.  many  arc  the  totems  of  this  band  ? 

Wa-nain  way-gi-osh-kun  wa-to-ta-met  ? 
What  the  gull  is  hi«  totem  .' 

What  is  the  guH's  totem  ? 


^!^:) 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  ASTRONOMY. 


f^ ,( 


Of  the  opinions  of  the  Indians  respecting  the  heavenly  bodie.--, 
little  need  be  said.  An  extensive  acquaintance  with  the  motions, 
figures,  distances,  &.c.  of  these  bodies,  could  not  have  been  ex- 
pected from  people  situated  as  they  are,  and  deprived  altogethrr 


13    'i'uskwawpp'\eeg,  Uskwawgomees;  near  Montreal. 

Thr  above  fiftpcii  tribes  arc  tlioiight  (o  apeak  lanfriia^fes  wliii-Ii  resemble  Odav 

Ifi.  Nautowaig,  Naud  nvajs,  (rattle  snakes.  > 

IT.  Mat-chc-nnw-to-waig,  Bad  Namloways. 

18.  locwaig,  loways. 

Jf>.  Nabuggindebaig,  Flat  heads;  said  to  have  lived  below  the  Illititiis  Ftivn 

20.  Wirinebagoag,  Winiiclw^oe.'-',  or  Pimiits. 

'21.  Bwoinug,  Sioux;  Naiulowcsseeg,  Ott.,  iJoasfcrs. 

22.  Ussinebwoiiuig,  Assinnelxiine,  (stone  roasters.) 

•2'X  .Agutrhanmnewug,  Minnetahrees,  (settled  people.) 

Uf.  Kwowahtewug,  Mandans. 

■J.'>.  Ahmeekkwun  Flninnewug,  Beaver  People;  among  the  Fall  Indian  ><. 
Mukkudda  Ozitunnug,  Black  Feet. 
UssinncwudJ  F.nlnncwug,  Rocky  Mountain  Indian.-^. 
Pahneng,  Pawnees. 

29  Wamussoivowiig. 

'M  Kokoskeeg. 

31.  .Aguskemaig,  Esquimaux,  (those  who  eat  tlieir  food  raw.) 

o2.  Wcendegoag,  Cannilrals  This  last  iii  an  imaginary  race,  said  to  inliabit 
an  ivland  in  Hudson's  Bay.  They  are  of  gigantic  dimension,  and  extremely  given 
to  cannibalism.  The  Mu>ikegoes,  who  inhabit  the  low  and  cheerless  swamp*  on 
the  borders  of  Hudson's  Bay,  and  are  themselves  reproached  by  the  other  tribr<; 
aa  cannibals,  arc  said  to  live  in  constant  fear  of  the  Weendegoag. 

33.  Qjecg  Wyahnng,  Fisher  Skins 


21. 
28. 


i^ 


iWLti      I.  or  AsTRONOMV. 


.HI 


,  1 


ike  almost 
as  will  ap- 

-duh-pe ' 

here? 


irenly  bodie;--, 
I  the  motion?, 
lavc  been  ex- 
cd  altogethrr 

)  resemble  0(ta^^ 


le  llli'u.is  Riv'^i 


"all  Indians. 


ace,  said  to  inliabit 

ind  extremely  givf  1 1 

heerless  swamp*  oil 

by  the  other  trib<«^ 


written  language.     They  pre 

se  subjectr*  than  they    lossr- 

^nWgUlU' 

iiUm  of  I) 


IZZCi  III 

•mn  and 


■^  wife,  v/U- 

,  .  ■    V  be    ! 


lived  on 
»iful  boy. 


of  the  aids  of  inatr    /lenl.-.  and  ' 
tend  to  no  more  kr   wledge  on  i 

Au-do-me-ne,  an     idHgent  O     wwaw  . 
answer  to  my  inquiries  conceminir  their 
moon,  related  to  mc  the  following  fable  :- 

Long  ago,  an  old  Ojibbcway  chief,  and 
the  shore  of  Lake  Huron,  had  one  won, 
His  name  was  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to,  (he  that  catches  clouds,)  and 
his  totem,  after  that  of  his  father,  a  beaver.  He  would  have 
been  a  great  favourite  with  them,  for  he  was,  in  the  main,  affec- 
tionate and  dutiful,  except  that  they  could  never  persuade  him  to 
fast.  Though  they  gave  him  charcoal,  in  place  of  his  usual 
breakfast,  he  would  never  blacken  his  face,  and  if  he  could  find 
fish  eggs,  or  the  head  of  a  fish,  he  would  roast  them,  and  have 
something  to  eat.  Once  they  took  from  him  what  he  had  thus 
cooked  in  place  of  his  accustomed  breakfast,  and  threw  him 
some  coals  instead  of  it.  But  this  was  the  last  of  many  attempts 
to  compel  him  to  fast.  He  took  up  the  coals,  blackened  his 
face,  went  out,  and  lay  down.  At  night,  he  did  not  return  into 
ihe  lodge  of  his  parents,  but  slept  without.  In  his  dream  he  saw 
a  very  beautiful  woman  come  down  from  above,  and  stand  at  his 
feet.  She  said,  "  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to,  1  am  come  for  you  ;  see 
that  you  step  in  my  tracks."  The  lad  obeyed  without  hesitation, 
and  stepping  carefully  in  her  steps,  he  presently  found  himself 
ascending  above  the  tops  of  the  trees,  through  the  air,  and  be- 
yond the  clouds.  His  guide  at  length  passed  through  a  small 
round  hole,  and  he  following  her,  found  himself  standing  on  a 
beautiful  and  extensive  prairie. 

They  followed  the  path,  which  led  them  to  a  large  and  rich 
looking  lodge ;  entering  here,  they  saw  on  one  side  pipes  and 
war  clubs,  bows,  arrows,  and  spears,  with  the  various  imple- 
ments and  ornaments  of  men.  At  the  other  end  of  the  lodge 
were  the  things  belonging  to  women.  Here  was  the  home  of 
the  beautiful  girl  who  had  been  his  companion,  and  she  had,  on 
the  sticks,  a  belt  she  had  not  finished  weaving.  She  said  to  him, 
"  My  brother  is  coming,  and  I  must  conceal  you."  So  putting 
him  in  one  corner,  she  spread  the  belt  over  him.  Ono-wut-to- 
kwut-to,  however,  watched  what  passed  without,  from  his  con- 
cealment, and  saw  the  brother  of  the  young  woman  come  in, 


b 


i 

i: 


:\M 


in 


i 


■n\  i 


»18 


KNOWLEDGt  i)F  ASTP.ONOMY. 


most  splendidly  dressed,  and  take  down  a  pipe  I'rom  the  wuil. 
After  he  had  smoked,  he  laid  aside  liis  pipe,  and  the  sack  con- 
taming  his  pah-koo-se-gun,  and  said,  "  When,  my  sister,  will  you 
cease  from  these  practices  ?  Have  you  forgotten  that  the  Great- 
est of  the  Spirits  has  forbidden  you  to  steal  tiie  children  of  those 
who  live  below?  You  suppose  you  have  concealed  this  that 
you  have  now  brought,  but  do  I  not  know  that  he  is  here  in  the 
lodge  ?  If  you  would  not  incur  my  displeasure,  you  must  send 
him  immediately  down  tohis  friends."  But  she  would  not.  He 
then  said  to  the  boy,  when  he  found  that  his  sister  was  deter- 
mined not  to  dismiss  him,  "  You  may  as  well  come  out  from  that 
place,  where  you  are  not  concealed  from  me,  and  walk  about,  for 
you  will  be  lonesome  and  hungry  if  you  remain  there."  He 
took  down  a  bow  and  arrows,  and  a  pipe  of  red  stone,  richly  or- 
namented, to  give  him.  So  the  boy  came  out  from  under  the 
belt,  and  amused  himself  with  the  bow  and  pipe  the  man  gave 
him,  and  he  became  the  husband  of  the  young  woman  who  hail 
brought  him  up  from  the  woods  near  his  father's  lodge. 

He  went  abroad  in  the  open  prairie,  but  in  all  this  fair  and 
ample  country,  he  found  no  inhabitants,  except  his  wife  and  her 
brother.  The  plains  were  adorned  with  flowers,  and  garnished 
with  bright  and  sparkling  streams,  but  the  animals  were  not  like 
those  he  had  been  accustomed  to  see.  Night  followed  day,  as 
on  the  earth,  but  with  the  first  appearance  of  light,  the  brother- 
in-law  of  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to  began  to  make  his  preparations  to 
leave  the  lodge.  All  day,  and  every  day,  he  was  absent,  and  re- 
turned in  the  evening ;  his  wife,  also,  though  not  so  regular  in 
the  time  of  her  departure  and  return,  was  often  absent  great  part 
of  the  night. 

He  was  curious  to  know  where  they  spent  all  the  time  of  their 
absence,  and  he  obtained  from  his  brother-in-law  permission  to 
accompany  him  in  one  of  his  daily  journeys.  They  went  on  in 
a  smooth  and  open  path,  through  prairies,  to  which  they  could 
see  no  boundary,  until  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to,  becoming  hungry, 
asked  his  companion  if  he  did  not  think  he  should  find  any  game. 
"  Be  patient,  my  brother,"  said  he ;  "  this  is  my  road  in  which  I 
walk  every  day,  and  at  no  great  distance  is  the  place  where  1 
constantly  eat  my  dinner.  When  we  arrive  there  you  shall  scr 
how  I  am  supplied  with  food." 


m .  mw   '■  ■**"*l**^*'ll*iPBIP'^w* 


BWWiiP 


«PI 


KNOWLEDGE  OV  ASTRONOMV. 


•nu 


[\  the  wall. 
;  sack  cou- 
r,  will  you 
the  Great- 
en  of  those 
d  this  that 
here  in  the 
a  must  send 
Id  not.     He 

was  deter- 
)Ut  from  that 
,lk  about,  for 
there."     He 
le,  richly  or- 
am  under  the 
he  man  gave 
man  who  had 
ige. 

this  fair  and 
s  wife  and  hei 
\nd  garnished 
were  not  like 
[lowed  day,  as 
;,  the  brother- 
reparations  to 
^bsent,  and  re- 

so  regular  in 
lent  great  part 

time  of  their 
1  permission  to 
ley  went  on  in 
Ich  they  could 
Iming  hungry, 
^nd  any  game, 
aad  in  which  1 
[place  where  I 
vou  shall  f^ec 


They  came  at  length  to  a  place  where  were  many  fmc  mats  to 
^it  down  upon,  and  a  hole  through  whidi  to  look  down  upon  the 
earth.  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to,  at  the  bidding  of  his  companion, 
looked  down  through  this  hole,  and  saw  far  beneath  him  the 
great  lakes,  and  the  villages,  not  of  the  Ojibbeways  only,  but  of 
all  the  red  skins.  In  one  place  he  saw  a  war  party,  stealing  si- 
lently along  toward  the  hunting  camp  of  their  enemies,  and  his 
companion  told  him  what  would  be  the  result  of  the  attack  they 
were  about  to  make.  In  another  place  he  saw  people  feasting 
and  dancing :  young  men  were  engaged  at  their  sports,  and  here 
and  there  women  were  labouring  at  their  accustomed  avocations. 

The  companion  of  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to  called  his  attention  to 
a  group  of  children  playing  beside  a  lodge.  "  Do  you  see,"  said 
he,  "  that  active  and  beautiful  boy  ?"  at  the  same  time  thro^ving 
a  very  small  stone,  Avhich  hit  the  child,  who  immediately  fell  to 
the  ground,  and  presently  they  saw  him  carried  into  the  lodge. 
Then  they  saw  people  running  about,  and  heard  the  she-she- 
gwun,  and  the  song  and  prayer  of  the  medicine  man,  entreating 
that  the  child's  life  might  be  spared.  To  this  request  his  com- 
panion made  answer,  "  Send  me  up  the  white  dog."  Then  they 
could  distinguish  the  hurry  and  bustle  of  preparation  for  a  feast, 
a  white  dog  killed  and  singed,  and  the  people,  who  were  called, 
assembling  at  the  lodge.  While  these  things  were  passing,  he 
addressed  himself  to  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to,  saying,  "  There  are. 
among  you  in  the  lower  w  urlJ,  some  whom  you  call  great  medi- 
cine men ;  but  it  is  because  their  cars  are  open,  and  they  hear 
my  voice,  when  I  have  struck  any  one,  that  they  are  able  to  give 
relief  to  the  sick.  They  direct  the  people  to  send  me  whatever 
I  call  for,  and  when  they  have  sent  it,  I  remove  my  hand  from 
those  I  had  made  sick."  When  he  had  said  this,  the  white  dog 
was  parcelled  out  in  dishes,  for  those  that  were  at  the  feast ;  then 
the  medicine  man,  when  they  were  about  to  begin  to  eat,  said, 
"  We  send  thee  this,  Great  Manito  ;"  and  immediately  they  saw 
the  dog,  cooked,  and  ready  to  be  eaten,  rising  to  them  through 
the  air.  After  they  had  dined,  they  returned  home  by  another 
path. 

In  this  manner  they  lived  for  some  time,  but  Ono-wut-to-kwut- 
to  had  not  forgotten  his  friends,  and  the  many  pleasant  things 
lii'had  left  in  his  father's  village,  and  he  longed  to  return  to  thr 


I' 


,^' 


320 


KNOWLKDOE  OF  ASTRONOMY. 


;• 


earth.  At  last,  his  wife  consented  to  his  request.  "  Since," 
said  she,  "  you  are  better  pleased  with  the  poverty,  the  cares,  and 
the  miseries  of  the  world  beneath,  than  with  the  peaceful  and 
permanent  delights  of  these  prairies,  go.  I  give  you  permission 
to  depart ;  not  only  so,  but  since  I  brought  you  hither,  1  shall  car- 
ry you  back  to  the  place  where  I  found  you,  near  your  father's 
lodge ;  but  remember,  you  are  still  my  husband,  and  that  my 
power  over  you  is  in  no  manner  diminished.  You  may  return  to 
your  relatives,  and  live  to  the  common  age  of  man,  by  observing 
what  I  now  say  to  you.  Beware  how  you  venture  to  take  a  wife 
among  men.  Whenever  you  do  so,  you  shall  feel  my  displeasure : 
and  if  you  marry  the  second  time,  it  is  then  you  will  be  called  (o 
return  to  me." 

Then  Ono-wut-to-kwut-to  awoke,  and  found  himself  on  tho 
ground,  near  the  door  of  his  father's  lodge.  Instead  of  thr 
bright  beings  of  his  vision,  he  saw  about  him  his  aged  mother,  and 
his  relatives,  who  told  him  he  had  been  absent  about  a  year. 
For  some  time  he  was  serious  and  abstracted ;  but,  by  degrees, 
the  impression  of  his  visit  to  the  upper  world  wore  off.  He  he 
gan  to  doubt  the  reality  of  what  he  had  heard  and  seen.  At 
length,  forgetful  of  the  admonitions  of  his  spouse,  he  married  a 
beautiful  young  woman  of  his  own  tribe.  Four  days  afterwards 
she  was  a  corpse.  But  even  the  etl'ert  of  this  fearful  admonition 
was  not  permanent.  Ho  again  ventured  to  marry,  and  soon  af- 
terwards, going  out  of  his  lodge  one  night,  to  listen  to  some  unu- 
sual noise,  he  disappeared,  to  return  no  more.  It  was  believed 
that  his  wife  from  the  upper  world  came  to  recall  him,  accordinf; 
to  her  threat,  and  that  he  still  remains  in  those  upper  regions, 
and  has  taken  the  place  of  his  brother-in-law,  in  overlooking  the 
affairs  of  men. 

It  appears  from  this  tradition,  that  Avorship,  or  sacrifices,  arc, 
among  the  Ottawwaws,  sometimes  made  to  the  sun  and  moon ; 
and  tlu^y  acknowledge  that  these  luminaries,  or  rather  the  man 
in  the  sun,  aiul  the  woman  in  the  moon,  keep  watch  over  all  our 
actions. 

The  various  changes  of  the  moon  afford  them  a  method  of 
meaHuring  time,  very  definite  as  to  the  periods,  but  variable  in  the 
names  they  give  them.  Their  old  men  have  many  disputes  about 
the  number  of  moons  in  rnch  vcar.  and  they  give  different  nann- 


}!. 


'     i 


r:i.i"i.iwi.miiiDi.ji.n!' 


KXOWl.tDtiE  Ol-   ASTRONOMV. 


i'il 


"  Since," 
care3,  and 
iceful  and 
permission 
I  shall  car- 
lur  father's 
d  that  my 
y  return  to 
f  observing 
take  a  wife 
lispleasure ; 
be  called  to 

isclf  on  the 
tead  of  the 
mother,  and 
bout  a  year. 
,  by  degrees, 
off.     He  bo- 
ld seen.     At 
he  married  a 
•s  afterwards 
d  admonition 
and  soon  af- 
to  some  unu- 
was  believed 
m,  accordinp, 
iper  regions, 
jrlooking  tht- 

Irrificcs,  arc, 
]n  and  moon ; 
Ither  the  man 
over  all  our 

la  method  of 
lariable  in  the 
llisputes  about 

Iflrrrnt  nam<" 


10  tacli  of  tiiese.     Some  of  tlic  names  in  common  use  are  tlie 
following.    The  first  words  are  in  the  Ottawwaw,  and  the  second 
in  tlie  Menomonie  dialert. 
O-ta-ha-mene     kee-zis — 0-tai-hai-miii     ka-zho — Strawberry 

moon. 
IVle-nes  kee-zis — Main  ka-zho — Whortleberry  njoon. 
Menomonie-ka-we  kee-zis — Pohia-kun  ka-zho — Wild  rice  ga- 
thering moon. 
Be-nah-kwaw-we    kee-zis — Paw-we-pe-muk  ka-zho — Leaves 

falling  moon. 
Gush-kut-te-ne  kee-zis — Wnn-nai  ka-zho — Ice  moon. 
Ah-gim-me-ka-wc  kee-zis — Wa-si-ko-si  ka-zho — Snow  shoes, 

Ojib. ;  bright  night,  Menom. 
Mah-ko   kee-zis — Wa-mun-nus-so  ka-zho — [Manito  o-kee-zis, 

Ojib.] — Hear  moon,   Ott.  ;    dear  rutting   moon.     Men. ; 

[Spirit  moon,  Ojib.] 
Kitche-manito  o-kcc-/.is — Ma-clia-li-witk  wa-mun-nuz-so-wuk 

— Longest  moon,  i^ood  for  luuitiiig.* 
Me-giz-ze-we  kee-zis — Na-ma-pin  ka-zho — [I\a-ma-bin  kec-zi>i. 

Ott.j — Snrker  moon. 
>ie-kc  kee-zis — Siio-bo-maw-kun  ka-zho — llrant  moon,  Ojib. ; 

Sugar  moon.  Men. 
Ma\Mig-o  kee-zis — .\s-sa-bini  ka-zlio — Ja)on*s  moon,  Ojib. ;  rai  - 

coon  moon,  Men. 
Sah-ge-bug-ah-we    kee-zis — Pe-ke-pe-niuk    ka-zlio — Leaves 

moon. 
Another  moon  spoken  of  by  the  iVIenomonies,  is  Wai-to-ke  Ka- 
zho,  the  snake  moon,  which  belongs  to  the  spring  season. 

The  following  short  catalogue  ol  stars  and  constellations,  will 
>lu)w  that  they  pay  some  attention  to  the  more  remote  of  the 
heavenly  bodies.  Some  few  of  their  old  men,  it  is  said,  have 
many  more  names. 

Waw-bim-an-nunjr — The  morning  star. 

Ive-wa-din  an-nung — The  north  star. 

Muk-koo-ste-gwt)n — The  bear's  head.  Three  stars  in  the  tri- 
angle. 

Muli-koo-zhe-gwun — Bear's  rump.     Seven  stars. 

*  A  ptruon  born  in  thit* moon,  (Janunrv  )  will  W  long  livei! 

II 


.W: 


•Mi 


KNOWLEDGE  OF  ASTRONOMV. 


•.♦.     i 


m .  < 


Oi-eogan-nung-wiig — Fisher  stars.  The  bright  stars  in  ursa 
major,  and  one  beyond,  which  forms  the  point  of  the  fisherV 
nose. 

Mah-to-te-sun — The  sweating  lodge.  One  of  the  poles  of  this 
lodge  is  removed.  They  say  the  man  whom  they  {>oint  out  near 
by,  was  so  overcome  witli  the  heat  of  the  Mah-to-te-sun,  that  in 
his  hurried  attempt  to  escape,  he  pulled  up  this  pole. 

Mahng — A  loon. 

Nau-ge-maun-gwait — Man  in  a  canoe  hunting  the  loon. 

Ah-wali-to-wuh  o-moag — The  companions  sailing. 

An-nung-o-skun-na — Comet.  They  have  the  oj)inion  common 
;iinong  ignorant  white  people,  that  the  appearance  of  a  comet  is 
an  indication  that  war  is  to  follow.  The  Ojibbeway  An-nung-o- 
^kuii-na,  seems  to  signify  blazing  star.  The  Menomonies  call 
them  Sko-tie-nah-mo-kin,  the  seeing  fire.  Some  of  the  Ojibbp- 
wayp,  al.'io,  Wa-ween-e-zis-e-mah-guk  Ish-koo-da,  fire  that  has 
hair. 

Of  the  (rue  cause  of  the  increase  and  decrease  of  the  moon,  ot' 
ci'lipses,  and  of  other  phenomena  which  depend  upon  the  motion^ 
of  tie  heavenly  bodies,  they  have  no  correct  conceptions.  When 
the  moon  is  in  eclipse,  they  say  it  is  dying,  and  they  load  and  dis- 
charge tiieir  guns  at  it ;  and  when  they  perceive  the  bright  pari 
becoming  a  little  larger,  they  imagine  they  have  aided  to  drive 
away  the  sickness  which  was  overpowering  it.  Of  the  milliv 
way,  they  sometimes  say,  that  a  turtle  has  been  swimming  alonu^ 
the  bottom  of  the  sky,  and  disiurbt'd  the  mud.  Of  tlie  aurora  bo- 
realis,  which  tliey  call  the  dancf  of  the  dead,  their  opinion, 
though  a  little  more  poetic,  is  equally  childish.  Several  ircteorir 
phenomena  they  distinguish  from  those  remoter  appearances 
which  are  beyond  our  atniosiihore,  and  of  the  former  they  sonn  - 
limes  say,  "  they  belong  to  us." 

What  was  long  ago  stated  by  Roger  Williams,  of  the  mytho- 
logy of  the  Indians  of  Rhode  Island,  agrees  but  in  part  with  the 
opinions  of  the  present  daj'  amrng  the  Otlawwaws.  Of  Cau-tan- 
to-wit,  "  the  great  south-west  god,"  we  hear  nothing.  Ning-gali- 
be-an-nofi;4  Manito,  the  western  god,  the  younger  brother  of  Nn- 
tia-bou-jou,  the  god  of  (he  country  of  (he  dead,  has  taken  hii 
place.  In  his  Saw-waw-nand,  we  recognize  the  Shaw-wun-nouji 
Manito,  tho  stmthcrn  irod  of  the  (>((;iwwaw's.  But  all  these.  \\i\\\  • 


■Mn«*"m 


mrs  in  ursn 
,he  fisher's 

joles  of  this 
int  out  near 
sun,  that  in 


loon. 

liou  coinniou 
of  a  comet  is 
f  An-nung-o- 
lomonies  call 
f  the  Ojibbc- 
fire  that  has 

the  moon,  ot 
m  the  motioib 
ptions.  When 
J  load  and  dis- 
he  bright  pari 
aided  to  drive. 
Of  the  milky 
imiaing  alonu' 
the  aurora  bo 
their   opinion, 
veral  n"eteoii<- 
r  appearanci"- 
lor  they  sonn  - 

of  the  mytho- 
part  with  the 
Is.  OfCau-tan- 
ig.  Ning-gah- 
1  brother  of  Nn- 
has  taken  hi" 
Ihaw-wnn-nouc 
ill  these.  WnM- 


K.NOWI.EDCE  OF  ASTRONOMY. 

hun-ong  Manito,  the  god  of  the  morning,  or  of  the  east,  Ke-way- 
tin-ang  Manito,  the  god  of  the  north,  witli  Ka-no-waw-bum-min- 
iik,  "  he  that  sees  us,"  whose  place  is  in  the  sun,  are  inferior  iii 
power  to  many  others  ;  even  to  the  Ke-zhc-ko-we-nin-ne-wug, 
the  sky  people ;  a  race  of  small,  but  benevolent  and  watchful  be- 
ings, who  are  ever  ready  to  do  good  to  mankitid. 


II J 


.■k>#SBIIM»i-,;£-*.^^ 


324 


SVMERAtS. 


CHAPTER  II. 


COMPARISON  OF  NUMERALS,    TO   TEN,    IN  SEVERAL  AMERICAN- 
DIALECTS. 


!'•   ;«o. 


1.  Oto — Fro7n  Say. 


W% 


i;  \l 


fiVli 


r- 


Ui 


Yon-ka 

Sha-gua 

No-wa 

Shah-a-muh 

Tah-ne 

Kra-rah-ba-na 

To-wa 

Shan-ka 

Sah-tah 

Kra-ba-mili 

•i.  Konza. 

Meakh-che 

Shahp-pcii 

Nom-pal» 

Pa-om-bah 

Yah-ber-vp 

Pa-yah-ber-re 

To-pah 

Shank-kiih 

Sah-tah 

Ker-ab-bu-rah 

:{.  Omau'hnw. 

Mcarh-chc 

Shap-pa 

Nom-bah 

Pa-nooni-ba 

Ra-bene 

Pa-rah-hrnc 

To-bah 

Shooii-kah 

Sah-tah 

Kra-ba-rah 

'1.    Yaukfiuig: 

Wan-chah 

Shah-kah-pe 

No-pah 

Shah-ko-c 

Yah-ine-nc 

Sha-kun-(lo-ali 

To-pah 

Nuh-pet-che-wun-bah 

Zah-pe-lali 

Wrek-rhc-min-nuh 

Si,  .iu  ,m0m  »ifin0ii|r  I  i» 


pt! 


NUMERALS.  335 

5.  Dahkotah — Of  Upper  Mississippi. 

Wau-zhe-tah  Shah-kah-pr 

No-a-pah  Sliah-koan 

Yah-min-iic  Shah-han-doali 

To-a-pah  Neep-chew-wun-kali 

Zah-pe-tah  Weck-chim-mah-nc 


U.  Minnetahsc. 

Le-mois-so 

A-cah-me 

No-o-pah 

Chap-po 

Nah-mo 

No-pup-pe 

To-pah 

No-was-sap-pa 

Cheh-hoh 

7.  Pawnee. 

Pe-sah-gas' 

As-ko 

Shek-shah-bish 

Pet-ko 

Pet-ko-shek-sha-bisl  i 

Tou-wct 

Toii-wet-sha-bisli 

Shke-liksli 

Tok-shere-wa 

She-oksh 

8,  Choktaw. 

Tok-shcro 

Chaf-fah 

Han-nah-ia 

To-ko-lo 

Oon-to-ko-lo 

To-cha-nah 

Oon-to-che-nali 

Osh-tah 

Chak-ah-ta 

Tath-lah-pc 

Po-ko-]a 

0.  Ojibbcway. 
Ning-gooj-waw,  or  Ba-zhik         Ning-good-waw-swe 


Neezh-waw, 
Nis-swaw,  01 
Ne-win 
Nah-nun 

or  Neczli 
•  Nis-swc 

Noczh-zhwaw-swc 
Shwaw-swc 

Shong-^us-swc,  or  shong 
Me-dos-swe,  or  kwaitch 

10.  Muskwake. 

Nckot 
Ncpsh 

Nee-8wa 
Ne-o 

m  . 


t 


'»■ .?;  ,f 


H'i'j 


I    . 


H   ^^ 


NUMERALS 

Ne-on-pii 

Neesh-waiis-pek 

Ne-kot- 

waus-keek 

Shaiink 

Ne-kot-uau-swa 

Me-to-swa 

•v^* 

11. 

Minsi 

— From  Hcckeweldcr. 

Gut-ti 

Gut-tasch 

Nis-cha 

Nis-choascli 

Na-cha 

Cha-asch 

Ne-wa 

No-we-li 

Na-lan 

Wim-bat 

12.  Algonlcin — From  Heckioedder. 

Pe-gik  Nin-gon-ton-as-sou 

Ninch  Nin-chou-as-soii 

Nis-souc  JN'is-soii-as-so\i 

Neon  Ohan-gas-so\i 

!Va-san  Mil-Ias-sou 

13.  Dclawarr. — Froj/i  Ilcckewclder. 


I 


Ni-gut-ti 

Gut-tasch 

Nis-clia 

Nis-chash 

Na-clut 

(Jhasch 

Ne-wo 

Pes-clionk 

Pa-le-narh 

Tel-lrn 

14.  Mahnotnonic. 

\e-kote.s 

Ne-kot-was-sa-lah 

Neesh 

No-ha-kuii 

Nah-new 

Suah-sek 

Ne-ew 

Sliaw-ka-waw 

Nean-min 

Mc-tah-tah 

16.  Cree — From  Say. 

Paynk 

Ne-go-to-ali-sek 

Ne-shuh 

Ta-pa-coli 

Nesli-lo 

Aa-na-nes 

Na-a-wo 

Ta-ka-lo 

Vfan-nuii 

^Tn-tn-ta 

./  ■ 


l^Vl! 


'I 


■■Mill 


'"—•—mmim 


NUMERAL:?. 


10.    Winnebago. 


tm 


Zhunk-he-rah 

Noam-pee-wee 

Tah-nee-wee 

Kho-a-pee-wee 

Saut-shah 


Ah-ka-a-way 

Shau-koa 

Ar-waw-oank 

Zhunke-schoonk-schounc 

Kar-ra-pun-na-nah 


17.  Adage — Frorri  Duponceau. 
Nan-cas  Pa-ca-naa-cus 
Nass  Pa-caness 
(yolle                                              Pa-ca-lon 
(-■ac-ca-chc  Sic-kin-ish 
!Sep-pa-can                                    Neus-ne 

18.  Muskogee — Frotn  Adair. 


Hom-mai 

E-pah-g!ie 

Jiok-kole 

Ho-loo-pha-gc 

Too-che-na 

Chee-ne-pa 

Osh-ta 

Oli-sta-pc 

('ha-ka-pe 

Pa-ko-le 

19.  Cholctah 

and  Cliiksah- 

—From  Adair. 

tJheph-pho 

Han-nali-lc 

Too-ga-lo 

IJn-too-ga-lo 

Toot-che-na 

Un-too-che-na 

Oos-ta 

Chak-'ic-le 

Tath-la-be 

Po-koo-lc 

20. 

Chcrokee- 

-From  Adair. 

sjo-guo 

Ka-re-koge 

Tah-iie 

Sah-nay-ra 

Choch 

Soh-iKiy-ra 

Nauk-kc 

Skoch 

Ish-ke 

So-at-too(ll) 

Soo-tare 

Ta-ra-too  (12) 

31.  Quaddies,  [Maine.] — From  Duponceau. 

lS*ai-gof  Ni-lii 

Vrs  Na-ho 


?^^ 


,;_-v*^t4^*»^'iiSrfk.^_ 


V  /. 


Ji 


r'um 


I    i 


328 


NUMERALS. 


Nane 

Ga-mat-chinc 

A.-lo-he-gan-nah 


Ok-muh-liinc 

As-kwi-nan-dak 

Noy-dinsk 


23.  Quawpaw—From  Duponccau's  MS. 

Milch-tih  Schap-peh 

Non-ne-pah  Pen-na-pah 

Dag-he-nig  Pe-dag-he-nih 

Tu-ah  Schunk-kah 

Sat-ton  Ge-deh-bo-nah 

33.  Penobscot — Fro7n  Duponceau's  MS. 

Pe-suok  Neuk-tansg 

Neisc  Ta-boos 

Nhas  San-suk 

Yeuf  No-cle 

Pa-lc-neusg  Ma-ta-ta 

24.  Miami — From  Duponcemi's  MS. 
Ng-goo-teh  Ka-kat-sueh 


Nii-ju-eh 
Nisth-ueh 
i\u-ueh 
llaan-uch 


Sueh-tct-sueh 
Po-laa-nch 
Ngo-tc-me-nch-kek 
Mo-taat-sueh 


25.  Skawncsc — From  Duponccau's  MS. 
In-gut-i,  or,  n'gut-i  Ka-kat-swi 


Nis-chwc 
N'swe 
Ni-wi 
>'ia-lan-wi 


Swach-tct-swy 
Pal-la-ni 

N'giit-ti-me-pech-gi 
Mat-tat-swy 


2H.   Unachog — From  Duponceau's  MS. 

Na-gwiii  Na-cut-tali,  or,  cut-lali 

TVecs  'riim-po-wa 

Nos  Swat 

Yaut  Neone 

Pa,  or.  na-|iaa  Pay-ar 


<•■■♦(•-■ 


NlMiiRAl.^, 

27.  Natick—From  Elliot's  Bib. 


329 


Ne-gunt 

Neese 

Nish 

Yau 

Na-pan-na-tah-she 


Nc-kwut-ta-tah-slu- 

Ne-sau-suk-tah-she 

Shwo-suk-tah-she 

Pa-skoo-giin-tah-shc 

Pi-iik 


28.   Nousaghausct — From.  EllioVs  Bib.  in  MS. 
Ne-guit  Kwut-ta 


Nase 

E-na-da 

Nibh 

Shwo-suk 

Yoh 

Pas-ku-git 

Na-pau-na 

Pi-uk 

39.    Sourihi'os-ioruM. — From  John  I)c  Lad. 

Ne-gout 

Ka-ma-chin 

Ta-bo 

E-roe-kwe-sink 

Chicht. 

Meg-oii-ma-chia 

Ne-oii 

|]gh-ko-na-tleck 

\ait 

Me-tuii 

30.   Canadensis, 

lb. 

— From 

Aitct.  Lcscarbot. 

IJe-gou 

Coii-tou-sai-liiii 

Mi-choii 

\c-o-va-r.hin 

\ich-toa 

\cs-to-va-chin 

Rau 

Pcs-co-va-det 

A-pa-te-ta 

Me-tuB 

.  Saukikani- 

-From 

J. 

D.  Lacf 

Auct.  Johaii.  Sn 

Cottc 

Cot-tash 

Nyssc 

Nys-sas 

Na-cha 

Ge-chas 

Wy-wc 

Pcs-choii 

Pa-rc-n;igli 

Tcr-ren 

32. 

Algonkii 

■ — From 

/,  Long: 

Pay-J'k 

Nis-soo 

Ninrh 

42 

Ncoo 

/  ( 


1/ 


.^^S^'-^W^'-Jii*.— _ 


I  tf* 


'III:  lit 


iJ 


I.M  '  i 


i'fl/' 


330 


NUMERALS. 


Na-raii 

Nin-goot-was-soo 

Nin-cho-was-soo 


Nis-so-was-so 
Shon-gas-soo 
Ni-tas-soo 


33.   Chipprivay — From  J.  Long. 

Pay-shik  Nc-gut-wos-swoy 

Neesh  Swos-swoy 

Nees-swoy  Shau-gos-swoy 

Ni-on  Mo-tos-swoy 
Na-ran 

34.  Ncv)  Stockbridge — Fro7ii  Kao-no-mut,   a  woman  who  had 
been  living  on  Fox  River,  1827. 

N'got-tah  N'ko-taus 

To-pau-wus 


Ne-shah 
Nah-hah 
Nah-wah 
No-nun 


Ug-wit-toli 
Nrs-oh 
Nogh-holi 
Nau-w  oil 
Nu-noii 


Khous-so 

Nah-ne-wc 

N'lan-nct 


35.  Mohegan. 


Ug-wit-tus 

Tu-pou-wiis 

(ihu-sooli 

Nau-ne-weh 

\e-tau-nit 


36.    Monsrc — From  an  Indian  at  Buffaloe, 

N'got-tah  N'got-wawp 

Ne-sliali  Nush-waiis 

N'hali  N'haus 

Na-ali  No-wa-lah 

Naw-biin  Wim-bat 

37.  Nauduway — From  Tanner. 

Wis-ka-ut  Yah-gali 

Tik-ke-ne 

Os-sali 

Kia-nfcc  Te-unk-teuli 

Wlnsk  Wr-fifo-iii* 


Shah-tuk 
Sah-ta-gali 


I 


iix.    »■ 


MMk 


NUMERALS.  33[ 

38.  Seneca— From  an  Indian  at  Biijaioe,  18^7. 
Skaut  Yah-fli 

Tik-thuco  Chah-duk 

'"^""■a^'  Ta-ke-oh 

Ka-ac  Teu-tolm 

^^«'s''  Wushan 

39,  Potiwattomie—From  an  Indian  at  Detroit,  1827. 

N^-g^t  Ne.got-waut-so 

Neesh  No-okt-so 

^««s.wa  Su-aut-so 

'^a-ow  Slmli-kah 

Na-nun  Kwetcli 

40.  Ottawwaw—From  Tanner. 
Nc-goch-waw  Nin-got-wau-swa 

!Veesh-waw  Neesh-wau-swa 

^''^^^vii^v  Nis-wan-swa 

'^^•wi"  Shaunk 

Nah-nun  Kwetch 

41.   Chippewyan—From  u  German  Interpreter. 

*''h-''-a  I-ka-lali-rali 

^^"''■>^"  I-ka-taing-ha 

^^''^J^-^''"  Ish-lah-in-ding.ga 

'^*'"g''^  Kas-ka-koo-un-nee-rah 

Sah-zhun-lah-lia  Koo-im-nu-ah 

43.  Chippewyan—From  M'Kenzie. 
^'a-chy  Al-ke-tar-hy-y 

^a-ghur  Al-ki-deing-hy 

'^^Sh-y  Ca-ki-na-ha-noth-na 

Dengk-y  Ca-noth-na 

Sas-sou-la-chee 

43.  Chippewyan—From  a  woman,  a  native  of  Churchill, 
Ith-Iia  Ting-he 

^»^-^^  Sah-zun-lah-lia 

Krah-ha,  or  tah-rhe  11-kel-tah-rah 


IJ^. 


h^ 


332 


If    ^ 


f   I     f 


1:^  Mli 


% 


i^K% 


MJMEltAl.^. 

Shah-zct-tc 

Kah-kin-ho-en-er-nali 

Il-ket-tinjD: 

llo-cn-rr-nali 

14. 

Anglo  Sa 

Ton. 

Aen 

Six 

Twe-gcn,  or, 

twa 

Se-o-fou 

Threo,  or,  th 

ry 

Eaghta 

Fco-thcr,  or, 

Cco-wcr 

Ni-gonc 
Tyn 

45.  Cree- 

-From  M^Kcnzic. 

Pey-ac 

Ne-gou- ta-woe-sic 

Ni-shcu 

Nish-wi-o-sic 

Nish-toti 

Jan-na-ncw 

Nc-way 

Shack 

Ni-an-nan 

Mi-ta-tat 

H). 

Als^okiii — From 

M'Kenzic. 

Po-chcik 

Ni-gou-la-wa-swois 

Nijc 

Ni-jri-was-wois 

Nis-woi? 

She-was-wois 

Neau 

;Shan-g\vos-wois 

Na-nau 

Mit-as-swois 

47.  Chippewt/aa — From  a  Chippewyan. 

Lth-li-ah  El-kat-hai-ri 

Nuk-km-  rSlus-ing-ding-hc 

Tor-ri  El-ket-ding-hc 

Ding-hc  Kutch-e-r.3-ner-re 
Sos-sii-li-he 


Ho-ner-ne-nuh 


48.  Winnebago — From  a  Winnebago. 

Zhimk-kaifl  Har-ker-ra 

Noamp 


Tarn 

T'joab 

Sarj 


Pfi-ak 


8har-goan 
Kad-do-unk 
Yunk-kcd-joos-koon 
Ker-rcb-hon-na 


49.   Cree — From  a  native. 
Ne-sn 


'^lk>^s;- 


•««i 


f  ' 


NUMERALS. 


883 


Nees-to 

Ne-o 

Ne-ah-nun 

Ning-good-waw-sik 


Ta-bc-ko 
E-nah-ne 
Kam-me-tali-lai 
Me-tah-tat 


50.  Mahneshcet,  (slow'tongucs,)  residing  on  the  St.  Johns,  N.  B. 

From  a  native. 


Na-koot 

Tah-bo 

Sheist 

Na-oo 

Nahu 


Kah-imitch-ia 

Lu-he-gin-mik 

O-go-mul-chiu 

Aish-ko-iiah-daig 

Ko-dainsk 


.:  'J 


•  fc*y**-.-'*^ 


4  r>if  i. 


!S,M  «  < 


ii^vi*^ 


ijiit 


MISU     A\J»    I'OKTKV. 


CHAPTER  111. 

MUSIC  AND  POETRV  OF  THE  INDIAN.^. 

Here,  it  must  be  ackiiowlodged,  \vc  enter  a  barren  field,  ofler- 
ing  little  to  excite  industry,  or  to  reward  inquiry.  Without  lite- 
rature to  give  perpetuity  l(»  the  creations  of  genius,  or  to  bear  to 
succeeding  times  the  record  of  remarkable  events,  the  Americans 
have  no  store  house  of  ancient  hiarning  to  open  to  tlie  curiositv 
of  the  European  race.  They  have  probably  never  thought  like 
ihe  Arabs,  that  the  cultivation  of  their  language  was  an  object  ol 
importance ;  and  though  the  orator  must  at  times  have  experi- 
enced the  eflect  of  a  )iapj)y  choice  of  expression,  he  must  alwayi^ 
liave  been  confined  to  a  narrow  range,  by  tlie  necessity  of  keeji- 
ing  within  the  comprehension  of  his  hearers.  Hence  tlieir  pubh( 
speakers  appear  to  liepend  more  on  a  certain  vehemence  and 
earnestness  of  manner,  which  is  intelligible  without  words,  than 
upon  any  elegance  of  tlunight.  or  refinement  of  diction. 

Their  songs,  whether  of  war  or  devotion,  consist,  for  the  mor>i. 
Ill  a  few  words  or  short  phrases  many  times  repeated;  and  in 
their  speeches,  (hey  dw«'ll  long  and  vehemently  on  the  same 
idea.  One  who  hears  an  Indian  orator  without  comprehendini' 
his  language,  w»»uld  confidently  suppose  that  his  discourM 
abounded  with  meaning  ;  but  tliese  speeches,  like  their  tedious 
and  monotonous  chants,  when  clearly  understood,  appear  so  poor 
and  jejune,  that  few  white  men  would  listen  to  either,  were  it  not 
with  tlie  hope  of  extiactinii  inforinatinn,  of  which  the  speaker,  or 
the  sinirer  himself,  must  be  wholly  unconscious.  Hut  after  all  is 
jieard  and  e\|ilained.  and  carefully  examined  in  all  its  bearings, 
It  must  be  principally  the  business  of  a  <{uick  and  fertile  imagina- 
tion, to  fiiul  in  them  moral  instruction  oi  historical  informatitm. 
If  we  fiinl  amori>r  the  American  Indians  traditional  items,  bearing 
iiianilesi  and  strong  ••'•s(i"t!:::.»,-  to  those  of  the  great  Asiatic  fa- 
luily.  from  whom  we  have  ado|)led  many  of  our  religious  opi- 


...niiriii'wwLiiir^a^'A;. 


MUSIC    ANU    rOETRV. 


335 


field,  ofler- 
Vithout  lite- 
)r  to  bi'ar  to 
c  Americans 
the  ru!iosil\ 
thoujrht  like 
an  object  ol 
have  experi- 
must  alway- 
isity  of  kee]!- 
c  their  publii' 
liemence  ami 
t  words,  lli;ni 
ion. 

for  the  mo^l. 
tod  ;    and   in 
,11  the   sanu 
niprehcndin^ 
lin    disrour^t 
llu'ir  tediou- 
i)[H'ar  so  pool 
■r,  were  it  not 
[('  speaker,  or 
Int  after  all  i- 
its  bearings, 
jrtile  imanina- 
infornialion 
jtenis.  bearing 
at  Awialif  f»- 
Irelisiious  opi 


nions,  this  can  only  be  considered  as  indicating  what  needed  no 
proof;  namely  :  Thai  this  people,  as  well  as  ourselves,  have  de- 
scended from  that  primeval  slock,  which,  i)lanted  somewhere  upon 
ihe  moimtains  .if  Asia,  has  sent  forth  its  branches  into  all  parts 
of  the  earth.  Thither,  we  are  taught  by  the  most  ancient  human 
records,  and  by  the  concurrent  deductions  of  all  soimd  philoso- 
phy, and  honest  impiiry.  to  look  for  the  i;reat  fountain  of  the  hu- 
man race:  and  if  some  of  the  streams,  in  des<;ending  thence,  have 
been  concealed  in  swamps,  or  sunk  beneath  sands,  we  ought  not 
ihcreforc  to  doubt  that  their  origin  is  to  be  thence  deduced.  But 
that  existing  or  retrieveable  monuments  or  resemblances,  will 
over  enable  the  curious  satisfactorily  to  trace  the  American 
br  .nch  to  its  origin,  need  not  now  be  expected.  Nevertheless, 
this  part  of  the  subject  may  have  interest  for  those  who  love  to 
trace  the  human  character  through  all  situations  and  exposures, 
and  to  contemplate  the  eflect  of  rev(dutions  in  external  circum- 
stances, on  manners,  lanL'uage,  and  metaphysical  opinions. 

Sufficient  evidence  proliably  exists,  to  convince  niaiiy,  that  the 
natives  of  the  central  regions  of  North  America,  whatever  diver- 
sities of  dialect  may  now  exist,  are  essentially  of  the  same  race 
with  the  Peruvians,  the  Mexicans,  and  the  Natchez ;  betweeit 
whom  and  the  ancient  iidi;\l)itants  of  (Jreece  and  Italy,  and  thai 
liortion  of  the  present  population  of  India  who  worship  Hrama, 
lloudd,  <«anesa,  Iswara,  &c.  a  near  relationship  has  already  been 
isrertained.  In  the  melamorphoses  which  tlie  Indian  traditions 
Ksign  to  many  trees,  plants,  animals,  and  other  thiiijrs.  we  an* 
-irongly  reminded  of  the  similar  superstitions  preserved  by  tlu 
Roman  poets.  Wo  fiiul,  also,  in  the  American  traditions,  distinct 
illusions  to  a  general  dehigt ,  and  to  several  other  particular^ 
which  we  are  accustomed  to  consider  as  restintr  solely  on  the  au- 
thority of  the  Mosaic  history.  Hut  when  we  relied  on  the  al- 
most universal  distribution  of  these  opinions,  in  some  shape  or 
other,  among  all  known  races  of  men,  we  may  admit  a  doubt 
whether  they  have  been  derived  from  tin-  historical  bo(»ks  of  the 
Hebrews,  or  whether  thev  are  not  rather  the  ulimnu'rings  i»f  ihiil 
jirimilive  light,  which,  at  the  first  great  divisitm  after  the  llood. 
into  the  families  of  Shem,  Ilam,  and  Japhel,  and  more  recently 
^t  the  dispersion  of  Habel,  must  have  been  in  possession  of  all 
'Mankind.     We  find  in  the   Mosaic  hislorv,  written.  n«  it  wax. 


m  ! 


M|iMMK*ii«mMA* 


/'  jT 


^'T^'^^^-^H^ifci,-*,  v---e*»ii«  •«»'L! 


33ft 


MUSIC    ANP    FOETR\. 


'ir't 


f  ' 


,1. 


long  alter  the  periorl  here  spoken  of,  abundant  evidence,  not  only 
tliat  traditional  remembrance  oC  the  deluge,  and  other  great  events 
in  the  early  history  of  mankind,  was  stiil  preserved ;  but  that  di- 
rect revelations  of  the  mind  and  will  of  the  Creator  had  been,  and 
were  still  made  to  men,  at  sundry  times,  and  in  divers  places. 
Within  two  or  three  hundred  years  of  the  deluge,  some  know- 
ledge of  the  mechanic  arts,  at  least  ship  building  and  masonry, 
iiiust  have  remained,  or  so  many  men  would  not  have  been  found 
ready  to  undertake  the  erection  of  a  tower  whose  top  should 
reach  unto  heaven.  At  this  time,  Noah,  the  second  father  of 
mankind,  and  his  three  sons,  who,  as  well  as  himself,  had  known 
the  "world  before  the  flood,"  were  still  alive.  Any  branch, 
therefore,  of  the  family  of  either  of  the  three  sons  of  Noah,  re- 
moved at  this'  time  to  "  the  isles  of  the  gentiles,"  or  to  whatever 
remote  part  of  the  earth  their  knowledge  of  navigation  and  other 
arts  might  enable  them  to  reach,  would  retain  at  least  a  traditional 
cosmogony  and  theogony,  which,  after  ever  so  many  years,  or 
ever  so  wide  and  devious  a  wandering,  must  probably  have  pre- 
served resemblance,  in  some  particulais,  to  the  originals.  Hence 
it  will,  we  think,  be  evident,  tliat  although  we  may  find  a  strong  re- 
semblance between  some  of  the  observances  of  the  Indians  and  the 
Hebrews,  we  are  by  no  means  to  infer,  that  one  of  these  races 
must  have  descended  from  the  otiei .  All  that  they  have  in  com- 
mon, will  probably  b*-  found  to  h;>  v,  i  6vit  of  similarity  of 
circumstances;  or  may  l)e  traced  >  '  i  ;•  i  long  previous  to  the 
calling  of  Abraham. 

But  lei  us  leave  this  profitles-s  discussion,  which  has  long  sinrr 
received  more  attention  than  it  deserves,  and  return  to  the  sub- 
ject before  mh. 

The  poetry  of  the  Indians,  if  they  can  properly  be  said  to  hau 
any,  is  the  language  of  excitement,  and  the  expression  of  passion  ; 
and  if  what«'ver  has  this  cliaracter,  and  is  at  the  same  time  rai.sc(l 
id)ove  the  tone  and  style  of  ordiimry  conversation,  and  is  or  may 
br  sung  to  music,  is  |)()rlry,  it  cannot  be  denied  that  they  havr 
among  them  poetry  and  poets  in  abundance.  Excitement  ol 
whatever  kind,  calls  forth  a  |)eculiar  manner  of  expression;  am! 
though  measure  aiul  rylliui.  polished  and  artificial  structi:r('. 
equally  balanced  and  harmonious  periods,  maybe  wanting,  the\ 
'  ommonly  ncrompitny  <he  utterance  of  (heir  words  by  gome  mo 


'*>^! 


^  '   K 


nam 


tais^e?& 


;e,  not  o»\ly 
jreat  events 
but  that  lii- 
(1  been,  and 
rers  places, 
lome  know- 
td  masonry, 
i;  been  found 
top  should 
nd  lather  ol" 
,  had  Unowi\ 
Any  branch, 
of  Noah,  rr- 
:  to  whatever 
ion  and  other 
;t  a  traditional 
-iny  years,  or 
ibly  have  prc- 
rinals.    Heufp 
nd  a  strong  n- 
ndians  and  tlif 
|of  these  races 
have  in  com 
similarity  ol 
|)revious  to  tin 

[has  long  ^in<i' 
irn  to  ihc  sub 


ML  SIC    AND     I'OLTKV. 


337 


dulation  of  tlie  voice,  like  what  we  call  singino.  In  all  their  re- 
ligious feasts  and  solemnities,  they  ad(h'ess  their  prayers  and 
praises  to  superior  beings  in  song.  In  all  times  of  distress  and 
danger,  or  when  sufl'ering  under  the  apprehension  of  immediate 
starvation,  or  awaiting  the  approach  of  death  in  some  more  hor- 
I  id  form,  the  Indian  expresses  his  anxiety,  oilers  up  his  petition, 
or  perhaps  recals  some  favourite  and  cherished  idea,  his  boast  in 
life,  and  his  consolation  in  death,  by  a  measured  and  monotonous 
chant,  in  which  the  ear  of  the  stranger  distinguishes  principally 
the  frequent  repetition  of  the  same  word. 

Nor  is  it  on  the  serious  and  momentous  occasions  of  life  only, 
that  we  witness  these  rude  ellorts  at  poetry  and  music.  Love, 
in  its  disappointment,  or  in  its  success ;  sorrow,  hope,  and  intoxi- 
cation, choose  the  same  method  of  utterance.  When  in  a  slate 
of  intoxication,  as  they  often  are,  the  men,  and  more  particularly 
the  women  of  some  tribes,  are  heard  by  night,  and  often  almost 
throughout  the  niglu,  singing  in  a  plaintive  and  melancholy  tone 
of  the  death  of  their  fri»'nds,  or  of  other  misforlunes.  One  who 
listens  to  these  lamentations,  while  darkness  ;ind  distance  inter- 
pose to  conceal  the  loo  often  disgusting  ol)j(;cts  who  utter  them, 
and  to  soften  down  aiul  mellow  the  tone  of  high  pitciicd  voices, 
will  often  find  somdhing  aflt'ctins  in  liicir  honest  and  unpremedi- 
tated complaints.  Tlu'ir  voices  are  often  line,  and  the  sentences 
they  utter,  are  the  language,  most  commonly,  of  real  snlTering, 
ilevested  of  allectation  or  art.  From  the  great  fr«(|ueiuy  with 
which  these  nielanclioly  ciiatitings,  and  the  profuse  tlow  of  tears 
(pccur,  as  the  consequences  of  intoxication  among  them,  one  might 
infer,  eitlier  that  their  condition  has  in  it  a  greater  share  of  sor- 
row and  of  sulleriiig  than  that  of  some  other  races,  or  ihat  the 
excitement  of  strong  drink  all'ects  them  in  a  dillerent  maimer.  A 
fair  inference,  at  least,  is,  that  in  their  sober  moments,  they,  like 
other  men,  wear  a  mask.  Indeed,  those  who  best  know  the  In- 
dians, are  liest  acquainted  with  the  ccnistant  ellorts  they  make  at 
concealment,  and  how  well  they  at  length  teach  the  outward 
.ispect  to  conceal  or  misrepresent  the  internal  emotions.  Hut  for 
lhe>»e  unpremeditated  elhisions,  |iarlicidarly  for  the  whining  and 
lirivolling  of  intoxication,  the  most  eitthusiastic  admirer  of  the 
Indians  will  not  claim  the  a])pellalion  of  poetry-  If  any  thing 
ninong  them  deserves  this  name,  we  must  search  for  it  among 

|:{ 


i 


l>i      I 


1      i 


n    « 


'i  ■        I 


L«  i«m 


338 


MISH      AND    POF.TRY. 


.1    V\ 


i'    ! 


M/il 


Mi 


those  traditionary  songs  which  descend  from  father  to  son,  and 
are  transferred  from  man  to  man  by  purchase,  to  be  used  in  their 
feasts,  in  the  administration  of  remedies  to  the  sick,  anil  above 
all,  in  medicine  hunting.  That  some  of  tlie  songs  tlius  preserved 
have  considerable  antiquity,  we  do  not  doubt;  that  they  Imve 
much  merit  as  poetical  compositions,  we  arr  not  disposed  to 
assert.  The  poetry  of  the  Indians,  like  their  eloquence,  requires 
the  assistance  of  able  translators,  and  those  not  too  scrupulous 
10  draw  only  from  the  materials  of  the  original. 

The  method  of  delineation,  by  which  they  aid  the  memory  in 
retaining  and  recalling,  on  occasion,  these  compositions,  e.\hibiis, 
perhaps,  one  of  the  earliest  steps  towards  a  written  language. 
\et,  from  its  existence  among  them,  in  the  present  form,  one 
would  not  hastily  infer,  that  had  they  never  been  intruded  upon 
by  men  of  another  race,  learning  or  arts  would  finally  have 
flourished  among  them.  There  arc  but  too  many  evidences, 
that  the  aboriginal  Americans  arc,  by  temperament,  by  some  pe- 
culiarity of  physical  structure,  or  moral  propensity,  a  more  slug- 
gish race,  than  the  European;  consequently,  destined  to  a  slow 
advance,  or,  perhaps,  like  most  of  the  Asiatics,  to  be  for  agc^ 
stationary,  or  retrogradent,  in  the  journey  of  improvement.  \Vo 
would  not  risk  the  assertion,  that  the  Americans  are  an  inferior 
race;  the  barrier  to  their  improvement  iippears  to  be,  that  indo- 
lence which  is  not  less  a  habit  of  their  minds  than  of  their  bodic.-, 
and  which  distiualifies  them  for  spontaneous  and  long  coniinvicil 
and  laborious  thinking.  Hunger  may,  and  does,  overcome  the 
liabit  of  bodily  ind(dence,  or,  at  least,  sometimes  interrupts  it; 
but,  in  the  Indian  character,  the  tendency  is  always  to  quiescence. 
Instances  are  intinitely  rare,  among  them,  of  that  restlessness  oi 
mind  so  common  in  the  European  race,  which  is  ever  in  quest  oi 
something  beyond  the  complete  gratification  of  the  wants  of  tin 
body,  and  which  has  been  the  true  source  of  so  many  great  and 
ennobling  actions.  The  past  history  of  this  race  of  men,  is  not 
wanting  in  instances  of  the  nianifrstation  of  that  inherent  slug- 
gishness of  disposition,  which  has  kept  them  back  from  the 
knowledge,  the  improvements,  and  the  civilization,  which  have 
been  so  long  urged  upon  them.  Let  it  be  granted,  as  doubtlcs" 
it  should  be,  that  the  Jesuits,  and,  to  some  extent,  at  least  tlir 
Moravian,  and  other  prolestanl  inisbiunaries.  rommencei^  Hit  i< 


III  i  .Mm, 


'?'  I  I 


L^^i* 


«■*■(• 


to  son,  and 
ised  in  iheir 
,  ami  above 
IS  preserve(5 
it  they  have 
dispoatnl  to 
nee,  requires 

0  bcrupulous 

ic  memory  in 
.ons,  exhibits 
teu  lantTuage- 
mt  form,  one 
ntruiled  upon 

1  finally  have 
ny  evidenee?. 
it,  by  some  pc 
•,  a  more  slug- 
lined  to  a  slow 
to  be  for  agc^^ 
ovement.  ^Vo 
1  are  an  inferior 
D  be,  that  indo 

f  their  bo<lic.-. 
onjT  conlinu*  il 
1,  overcome  tin 
cs  interrupts  it ; 
s  to  quiescence, 
t  restlessness  ol 
ever  in  quest  ol 
ic  wants  of  tin 
many  great  and 
e  of  men,  is  not 
t  inherent  sluji- 
back  from  llir 
lion,  whicb  have 
,ed,  as  doubtlc*'' 
nt.  at  least  tlif 
ommencei'  <bi  i' 


MISIU     AM»    I'ul.lRV. 

labours  where  tlicv  siionld  li;«\e  ended  ilicni,  bv  oticnnu:  to  tlio 
benighted  minds  of  the  Indians,  the  stupendous,  and,  to  them,  to- 
tally incomprehensible  doctrines  ol  the  cliiisiiau  religion;  and 
that  they,  in  a  great  measure,  neglected  to  leach  them  those  arts. 
which,  by  ensuring  an  abundance  of  means  for  the  sustenance 
of  life,  might  enable  them,  first  of  all,  to  fix  in  settled  habitations, 
and  afterwards  gradually  to  adopt  those  habits  and  o])inions 
which  have  ever  been  found  indispensable  in  pre|)aring  the  wil- 
derness for  the  reception  of  the  good  seed.  Yet.  must  we  not 
acknowledge,  that  the  descendants  of  those  who  were  early  re- 
ceived into  intimate  associatiim  with  the  whites,  and  learned 
from  them  the  mechanical,  and  all  the  cinnnKni  arts  of  life,  are. 
at  this  time,  lamentably  defuient  in  the  virtues,  as  well  as  the 
knowledge  we  miirbt  have  cxjiected  from  them? 

It  is  no  i)art  of  the  desiirn  of  lliese  reniiirks,  to  discourasfc  anv 
iittempts  that  may  be  made  to  introduce  the  (•|iri>tiaii  religion 
iiinong  these  people  ;  on  the  contrary,  we  look  upon  these  etl'orts 
as  always,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  useful  to  the  Indians  ;  they 
originate  as  well  in  a  difl'usive  and  amial'le  benevolence,  as  a  feei- 
itig  of  ju.-tice,  and  severe,  though  tard\'  compunction,  whi(  !i 
would  seek,  at  this  late  day,  to  render  to  the  starved  and  shiver- 
ing remnant  of  the  people  who  received  us  to  their  country  in  our 
day  of  small  things,  some  recompense  for  the  fair  inheritance 
which  we  have  wrested  from  their  forefathers.  The  example  of 
the  CheroKees.  and  some  others  in  the  south,  ha.-"  been  sulhcient 
to  prove,  tjiat  tmder  the  influence  of  a  mild  climate,  and  a  ferlih- 
soil,  thes<'  people  can  be  taught  habits  of  settled,  if  not  of  perse- 
\ering  industry.  From  this  condition  of  things,  we  can  already 
see  how,  an\oni{  that  people  habits  of  mental  enterprise  and  in- 
dustry are  to  spring  up,  and  we  look  forward  with  confidence 
to  a  source  of  continued  imi)rovement.  Tiiat  all  the  other  bands 
and  tribes,  under  similar  auspices,  ami  similar  intluences,  would 
pursue  a  similar  cmirse,  ctnnol  lie  doubted.  Philologists  and 
speculative  theorists  may  divide  and  class  as  they  please;  to  the 
patient  and  industrious  i'liser\er.  who  has  miiiuled  intimntely 
with  this  race,  in  the  low  ami  fertile  distri<ts  of  the  .Mississippi, 
in  the  broad  an<l  smilim;  plains  of  Arkai>  .w  and  Ked  Uiver,  in 
the  forests  of  the  Upper  Mississippi,  and  anions  the  pines  and 
the  mosscK  of  the  upper  lakc«.  it  will  be  evident  that  the  iibori- 


i' 


''^^••kMkB 


.^v .„  _ 


.ffflf 


<f 


"i  * 


:ti 


jFif 


'^^Cl'l 


34U 


MUSIC  AM)  tof;tu\. 


ginal  people  or  the  United  States  Territory,  are  all  of  one  lamily. 
jiot  by  physical  constitution  and  habit  only,  but  by  the  structuri' 
and  temperament  of  their  minds  ;  their  modes  of  thinking  and 
acting;  and,  indeed,  in  all  physical  and  mental  peculiarities, 
which  set  them  apart  from  the  remainder  of  the  human  family,  as 
a  pecidiar  people.  Whatever  course  has,  in  one  situation,  proved 
in  any  measure  eflectual,  to  reclaim  them  from  their  vague  and 
idle  habits,  will  certainly  succeed  in  another  situation,  though  per- 
Jiaps  more  slowly,  as  they  may  be  intluenced  by  a  less  genial  cli- 
mate, or  a  more  barren  soil. 


.'    .1 


Si''' 


): 


V 


-K* 


mmmmmtBaSSm 


Ml'SlC  AND  POETRY. 


341 


jne  ianuly. 
ic  structiue 
linking  and 
cculiariiies. 
n  family,  as 
ion,  proved 
•  vague  and 
though  per- 
is genial  cli- 


SONG    FOR  THE  METAI,  OR  FOR  MEDICINE 
HUNTING. 


Fig.  1. 


3. 


5. 


Fig.  1  '"«'  e-gwuh  ne-no-no-nen-dum  ah-ine,  Mc-tai  we-nin- 
ne-wug,  ne-kau-nug  ane-nuib-be-un-neh.* 

Now  I  hear  it,  my  friends,  of  the  Metai,  who  arc  sitting  about 
me. 

This,  and  the  tlircc  following,  are  sung  by  the  principal  chief  of 
ilie  Metai,  to  the  beat  of  his  bwoin  ah-keek,  or  drum.  The  lines 
from  the  sides  of  tlie  head  of  the  ligure  indicate  iiearing. 

2.  O-wa-nain  ba-me-je-waun-ga  ?  Man-i-to  0-ba-mc-jc-wa- 
iin-ga. 

Who  nuikes  this  river  How?  The  Spirit,  he  makes  lliis  river 
llow. 

The  second  ligure  is  intended  to  represent  a  river,  and  a  beaver 
«\vimming  down  it. 

3.  Ka-weh-whau-bo-me-tai,  ka-wch-whau-bo-me-lai  neh-kau- 
uuk  neej-huh  nish-a-nau-ba  ka-ke-ka-ne-me-kwaiii  nch-kau-nuk. 

Look  at  me  well,  my  friends  ;  examine  me,  and  lot  us  under- 
.-tand  that  we  are  all  companions. 

This  translation  is  by  no  means  literal.  The  words  express 
the  boastful  claims  of  a  man,  who  sets  himself  up  for  the  best 
and  moat  skilful  in  the  frateruiiv. 


n\     I 


♦  These  rude  pictures  iirc  curved  on  a  flat  piece  of  woocl,  and  scr\e  to  sugg^'st 
lo  the  inindx  of  tho«'  who  have  lenriied  the  soiiirs  the  ideas,  and  their  order  of 
succession ;  the  words  are  not  variable,  l)ut  a  man  must  he  taiiirht  them,  other- 
wise, tliou^h  from  an  insptH-tioi)  of  the  tisruro  he  niiiilit  ■  jmprchend  the  idea,  hn 
n'otild  not  know  what  to  sin;?. 


1^ 


r*WMMhi 


34'i 


MISIU    AND    POETIiV. 


Vf 


f.i(  ' 


,.^  <  r 


4.  O-ua-iiain  ba-bah-mis-sa-haht,  wt'oj-huli  nisli-a-iiau-ba?  Bc- 
tiais-se-wah  ba-bah-mo-sa-haht,  weej-huh  ni.sh-a-nau-ba. 

Who  niaketh  to  walk  about,  the  social  people  '.  A  bird  makctli 
10  walk  about  the  social  people. 

By  the  bird,  the  medicine  man  meatis  himself;  he  says,  tliai 
his  voice  has  called  tiie  pi;oj)ie  together.  Weej-huh  nish-a-nau- 
ba,  or  weej-a  nish-a-nau-ba,  seems  to  have  the  first  syllable  from 
the  verb,  which  means,  to  accompany.  The  two  lines  drawn 
across,  between  this  figure  and  the  next,  indicate  that  here  tlic 
dancing  is  to  commi  nee. 

5.  Neen  ba-pah-mis-sa-gahn  ne-goclio  ah-\ves-sie  neen-gah- 
kwa-tin  ah-waw. 

I  lly  about,  anil  if  any  where  1  see  an  animal,  I  can  shoot  him. 

This  figure  of  a  bird,  (prctbably  an  eagle  or  hawk,)  seems  in- 
tended to  indicate  the  wakefnlness  of  the  senses,  and  the  activity 
rfquired  to  ensure  success  in  limiting.  The  figure  of  the  moose, 
which  immediately  follows,  reminding  the  singer  of  tiie  cuniiiiiu 
and  cxtieme  shyness  of  tliat  animal,  the  most  difliciilt  of  all  In 
hill. 


<i. 


!». 


(».  Neeii-go-te-nanii  ke-da-ne,'  ne-iiii/.-zlio-lauii  ke-da-nc.  ;ili- 
wis-sie  k(;-(la-ii(',  ii('-ini/-/.ho-taun  ke-da-ne. 

I  simoi  your  iicart ;  i  hit  your  hcail,  oh  aniniiil.  your  heart.  I 
hit  your  iieart. 

This  ap'>.<i)o|)he  is  mere  lioasling,  and  i-;  sung  with  iiiiuji  t:i.>- 
ticulalion  and  grimace. 

7.  A-zhe-nahng'^gwit-lo  iaii-na  i>;h-ko-tang  a-zhe-nnhng  pwii- 
1o  ian-na. 

I  make  iiiyst  If  lo(di  like  lire. 

♦  Ki-  i/ij-rii:  ki-da,  ftliy  huarl :)  Inif  a  --a  llilili'  U  mldi'd  in  sinfrinj;. 


«> 


•^cx^m^KSSassx^ffS 


^ 


MUiJiC    AND    roETliV. 


343 


III 


■ba?    Ui'- 


liril  maketli 

e  says,  lliai 
nirih-a-nau- 
yllable  lron\ 
lines  drawn 
at  here  \\w 

e   neon-gali- 

111  shoot  hisi. 
'k,)  seems  iu- 
(l  \\\v  artivily 
(»f  the  moose, 
if  the  cimniii:; 
icvill  of  all  1" 


\). 


kMJ 


k«-il;i-ii>'-  ''•'- 

.  voiir  luart.  I 

willi  luiuli  U'^- 

H'-nnlmii  pvvii- 

,1  in  siiiK""- 


Tliis  is  a  medicine  man,  disguised  in  the  skin  of  a  bear.  The 
.-mall  parallelogram,  under  the  bear,  signifies  Ore,  and  they,  by 
oine  composition  of  gunpowder,  or  otiier  means,  rontrive  to 
give  the  appearance  of  fire  to  the  mouth  and  eyes  of  the  bear 
skin,  in  Mhicli  they  go  about  the  village  late  at  night,  bent  on 
deeds  of  mischief,  oftentimfs  of  blood.  We  learn  how  mis- 
cliievous  are  these  sui)erstitions,  when  we  are  informed,  that  ihey 
are  the  principal  men  of  the  Metai,  who  thus  wander  about  the 
villages,  in  tlie  disguise  of  a  bear,  to  wreak  their  hatred  on  a 
sleeping  rival,  or  their  malice  on  an  unsuspecting  adversary. 
But  the  customs  of  the  liidians  require  of  any  one  who  may  see 
a  medicine  man  on  one  of  these  excursions,  to  take  his  life  imme- 
diately, and  whoever  does  so  is  accounted  guiltless. 

8.  Gii-tah  e-no-tum  mau-na  nc-be-way  me-ze-ween,  ne-be-way 
neen-dai,  gin-no-tah  mau-na. 

T  am  able  (0  call  water  from  above,  from  beneath,  and  from 
around. 

Here  the  medicine  man  boasts  of  his  power  over  the  elements, 
,nnd  his  abiUfy  to  do  injury  or  benefit.  The  segment  of  a  cir- 
cle with  dots  in  it,  represents  water,  and  the  two  short  lines 
loiic.hing  the  head  of  the  figure,  indicate  that  he  can  draw  it  to 
iiim. 

!).  Yah-nah-we  nah-gwe-liah-ga  e-nai-ne-wah,  kin-ne-nah. 

Yah-nah-we  nah-gwe-hah-ga  ma-tai-mo-sah,  kin-ne-nah. 

V;di-nah-we  nah-gwe-liah-ga  o-ba-no-suh,  kin-ne-nah. 

I  cause  to  look  like  the  dead,  a  man  I  did. 

I  cause  to  look  like  the  dead,  a  woman  I  did. 

1  cause  to  look  like  the  dead,  a  child  I  diti. 

The  lines  drawn  across  the  face  of  this  figure,  indicate  pover- 
ty, distress,  and  sickness  ;  the  person  is  supposed  to  have  suflered 
i'rom  the  displeasure  of  the  medicine  man,  Such  is  the  religion 
of  the  Indians !  Its  boast  is  to  put  into  the  hands  of  the  devout, 
supernatural  means,  by  which  he  may  wreak  vengeance  on  his 
enemies,  whether  weak  or  powerful,  whether  they  be  found  among 
the  foes  of  his  tribe,  or  the  people  of  his  own  village.  This  Me- 
lai,  so  much  valued  and  revered  by  them,  seems  to  be  only  the  in- 
strument, in  the  hands  of  the  crafty,  for  keeping  in  subjection 
'he  weak  and  the  credulous,  which  may  readily  be  supposed  to 
be  tlie  srreater  part  of  the  people. 


n 


\    « 


il 


— -'fl-'Ai> 


r'    V. 


'3U 


Ml/?r<'   AND   VOETRV. 

10. 


10.  Ain-de-aun,  ain-de-aun,  ne-kau-iioh  ;  ah-wes-sie,  an-wes- 
ale,  nc-kau-neh,  ne-nuili-incek  ko-navv-waw,  nc-kau-neh. 

I  am  such,  I  am  surh,  my  friemls  ;  any  animal,  any  animal,  my 
friends,  I  hit  him  right,  my  friends. 

This  boast  of  certain  success  in  hunting,  is  another  method  by 
which  he  hopes  to  elevate  himself  in  the  estimation  of  his  hearers. 
Having  told  them  that  he  has  the  power  to  put  them  all  to  death, 
he  goes  on  to  speak  of  his  infallible  success  in  hunting,  which 
will  always  enal)le  him  to  be  a  valuable  friend  to  such  as  are  carr- 
In!  to  secure  his  ffond  will. 


fi:  i'i 


■"% 


J  , 


t  '41 


m» 


MUSIC    AND   FORTK.V. 


»45 


IP 


ie,  an-wes- 

jh. 
animal,  my 

•  method  by 
his  hearer?, 
all  to  death, 
iting,  which 
as  arc  care- 


SONG  FOR  THE  METAl  ONLY. 


Fig.  I 


Fig.  1.  Nah-ne-bah  o-sa  aun  neen-no  ne-mah-che  oos-sa  ja-ah- 
jie-no.     [Twice.] 

I  walk  about  in  the  night  time. 

This  first  figure  represents  the  wild  cat,  to  wliom,  on  account 
of  his  vigilance,  the  medicines  for  the  cure  of  diseases  were  com- 
mitted. The  meaning  probably  is,  that  to  those  who  have  the 
!<hrewdncss,  the  watchfulness,  and  intelligence  of  the  wild  cat,  is 
entrusted  the  knowledge  of  those  powerful  remedies,  which,  in 
the  opinion  of  the  Indians,  not  only  control  life,  and  avail  to  the 
restoration  of  health,  but  give  an  almost  unlimited  power  over 
animals  and  birds. 

2.  Neen-none-da-aun  ke-to-ne-a,  ma-ni-to  we-un-iio. 
1  hear  your  mouth,  you  are  an  ill  [or  evil]  spirit 

The  wild  cat,  (or  the  sensible  and  intelligent  medicine  riaii,) 
IS  always  awake ;  or  if  he  seems  to  sleep,  by  means  of  the  .super- 
natural powers  of  his  medicine,  he  becomes  acquainted  with  all 
that  passes  around  him.  If  one  man  speaks  evil  of  another,  to 
bring  sickness  upon  him,  the  wild  cat  hears  and  knows  it;  but 
ronfident  in  his  own  superior  strength,  he  disregards  it.  At  the 
bar  they  begin  to  dance.  The  lines  from  the  mouth  of  the  human 
figure,  represent  the  speeches  of  the  evil  ntinded  and  malicious. 

3.  Shi-a  iu'-nio-kin-nuh-we,bc-zlie-wa-wah*  neah-wa.  [Twice.] 
Now  I  conic  up  out  of  the  gro\md  :  I  am  wild  ctI. 


i  / 


•  Th«  Kounii  <it'  l>  mill  />  nn-  luu'd  iiidiscriliuiiatcly  in  many  woiiU  thus  :  oei}a, 
vena,  fer  tlif  « rvpl  turaiiins  a  |)hra^ant. 

u 


,1! 


.r  > 


'Hm 


34a 


Mtrsir    ANP    POETRY. 


I  am  the  master  of  the  wild  cats ;  and  having  heard  your  talk, 
I  come  up  out  of  the  ground  to  sec  what  you  do.  This  man,  it 
appears,  claims  superiority  over  other  medicine  men,  and  now 
rouses  himself  to  attend  to  what  is  passing.  The  bar  across  the 
neck  of  the  figure  representing  the  wild  cat,  indicates  that  he  in 
just  coming  out  of  the  earth. 


;%   it 


%'i. 


i  ^ 


I.  Bin-nah  !  neen  be-zhe-wa-wah  ke-mcen-waw-bum-me-na. 

Behold  !  I  am  wild  cat ;  I  am  glad  to  see  you  all  wild  cats. 

This  figure,  with  open  eyes  and  erect  ears,  denotes  earnest- 
ness and  attention.  [The  word  ke-meen-waw-bum-me-na,  affords 
a  strong  instance  of  what  has  been  called  the  synthetic  character 
of  this  language  ;  ke,  the  inseparable  pronoun,  in  the  accusative 
plural,  mecn,  from  ne-mee-noan-dun,  (I  love,  or  am  pleased,)  and 
waw-bum  from  ne-waw-bo-maw,  (I  see.)] 

5.  Ni>mau-i-to,  o-wa-she-na  a-ai-gah  nee-na  ketto-we  goh-wr- 
ke-na. 

I  am  a  spirit ;  what  I  have  I  give  to  you  in  your  body. 

This  is  the  figure  of  a  medicine  man,  with  his  pah-gah-ko-guu- 
un,  or  the  instrument  with  which  he  beats  his  drum,  in  his  hand. 
lie  appears  to  be  boasting  of  his  own  powers. 

6.  Ah-iie  ah-gah,  kah-neen-na  ke-taus-saw-wa-unna  ke-nis-si'- 
go-na. 

Your  own  tongue  kills  you ;  you  have  too  much  tongue. 

This  is  addressed  to  the  malicious  man,  and  the  slanderer,  one 
who  speaks  evil  of  others.  His  crooked  and  double  speech  goes 
out  of  his  mouth,  but  is  changed  to  an  arrow  in  his  hand,  and 
turned  against  himself;  his  own  body  bears  the  marks  of  the  in- 
juries he  would  have  inflicted  on  otjiers.     The  lines  across  Uk- 


(,|  nip  \i  'I . 


'-4, 


!l'WJ£4».J«lWtfwl*ff'V^il 


MUSIC    AND    POETRY. 


;}47 


your  talk, 
lis  man,  it 
I,  and  now 
across  the 
i  that  he  i3 


cheat  are  tne  traces  of  misfortune,  brought  on  him  by  the  indul- 
gence of  his  own  malicious  disposition.  In  the  songs  and  ad- 
dresses of  some  of  the  most  esteemed  chiefs,  or  persons,  who  may- 
be considered  in  some  measure  set  apart  for  the  Metai,  are  many- 
attempts  to  convey  and  enforce  moral  instruction,  or  rather  the 
inculcation  of  those  opinions  and  actions  which  constitute  the 
virtues  of  savage  life. 


iim-me-na. 
vild  cats, 
jtes  earnest- 
le-na,  affords 
jtic  charactci- 
hc  accusative 
pleased,)  and 


i  / 


)-we  goh-wr- 


lody. 

|i-gah-ko-gua- 
1,  in  his  hand. 

lina  ke-nis-sf- 


tonguc. 
Islandcrcr,  one 
je  speech  goes 
Ihis  hand,  and 

irks  of  the  in- 
hos  acro,«s  thi- 


:M8 


MUSH'    A\l>    IMiKTRV. 


'     I 


J^ONG  FOR  BEAVER  HUNTING  AND  THE  METAl. 


h/ 1 


I      « 


Fio.  1.  O-mib-bo-tum-niaun.  Mctai-wc-gauii,  Manito-wc-ga- 
iin. 

I  sit  down  in  tlm  lodjjc  of  tlip  Metai,  ihr  lodjrc  of  the  Spirit. 

This  figiiro  is  intended  to  represent  the  area  of  the  Metai-wr- 
j>aun,  or  medicine  lodjjje,  which  is  ralh'd  also  the  lodge  of  tin 
Manito,  and  two  men  have  taken  their  seats  in  it.  The  mattci 
of  ilie  song  seems  to  he  merely  introductory. 

y.  Neezli-o-go-na  wc-tah-him  mah-knm-ma  iie-kaun ;  nc-o- 
!;o-na  wc-tah-him  maii-kuni-nui  nc-ka-nn. 

'I'wo  days  must  you  sit  fast,  my  friend  ;  four  days  mtist  you  sii 
fast,  my  friend. 

The  two  perpendicular  lines  on  the  breast  of  this  figure,  arc 
read  ne-o-gone,  (two  days,)  but  are  underst(»od  to  mean  two 
years ;  so  of  the  four  lines  drawn  obliquely  across  the  legs,  these 
ar»!  four  ye.us.  The  heart  must  be  given  to  this  business  for  two 
years,  and  the  constrained  attitude  of  the  legs  iiulicates  the  rigid 
attention,  and  serious  consideration,  which  the  subject  reijuirc<. 

',).  Wha-be-nia,  Meen-de-mo-sah,  ke-ko-nia  wha-bc-nia. 

Tlu'ow  oil",  woman,  thy  garments,  throw  oil". 

The  power  of  their  medicines,  and  the  incanlntions  of  the 
Metai,  arc  not  confined  in  their  eflect  to  animals  of  the  chase,  to 
the  lives  and  ilie  health  of  men;  they  control,  also,  the  minds  of 
all,  and  overcome  the  modesty,  as  well  us  the  antipathies  of  wo- 
men. The  Indians  firmly  believe  that  many  a  woman,  who  has 
been  unsuccessfully  solicited  by  a  man,  is  not  only,  b)  Jie  pow- 
er of  the  Meiai,  made  to  yield,  but  even,  in  a  state  of  madncs*;. 


METAl. 


[anito-\vc-g:i- 

thc  Spirit, 
he  Motai-wr- 
lodgf  of  tin 
Thf  inattci- 

-kauti ;    nc-o- 

<  must  you  sii 

lis  liijure,  arc 
to  mean  two 
,hc  legs,  these 
siness  for  two 
ciitcs  the  rijjiil 
)jert  reiiuiiTs. 
be-niit. 

Intious  of  till 
1  the  ehase,  to 
,  tlu'  minds  of 
)athi«'s  of  wo- 
iiiiiii,  who  has 
v,  b>  ihe  pow- 
('  of  inadnes--. 


MLSU.    AND    POKTRV. 


M\t 


it)  tear  off  Iier  garments,  and  pursue  after  the  man  she  heforo 
despised.  Tlicse  cliarms  iiave  preater  power  than  those  in  the 
times  of  superstition  among  the  EngUsh,  aserilied  to  the  fairies, 
and  they  need  not,  like  the  plant  used  by  Puck,  be  applied  to 
the  person  of  the  unfortunate  being  who  is  to  b(!  transformed ; 
they  operate  at  a  distance,  through  the  medium  of  the  Miz-zin- 
nc-neens. 

4.  Na-wy-o-kun-ne-nah  wun*iiah  he-nun-ne-wah  ba-mu*su  keen- 
nah-na. 

Who  makes  the  people  walk  about  ?     It  is  I  that  rails  you. 

This  is  in  praise  of  the  virtue  of  hosj)itality,  that  man  being 
most  estj'enied  among  them,  who  most  frequently  ealls  his  neigh- 
bours  to  his  feast. 


0. 


7. 


9. 


5.  lle-o-win-nah  ha-ne-mo-we-tah  neen-ge-le-mah-hali  1io-che« 
oa-ha-ne  Mo-c-tah  neen-ge-te-mah  hah-uah. 

Any  thing  I  can  shoot  with  it,  (this  medicine,)  even  a  dog  I 
can  kill  with  it. 

0.  Nin-goo-te-naun  ke-ta-he,  e-nah-ne-wah  ke-ti  -he. 

I  shoot  thy  heart,  man,  thy  heart. 

Ue  means,  perhaps,  a  buck  moose  by  the  wor  •  '■-nah-nc-wali, 
or  man. 

7.  Neen  ne-na-sah  waw-be-maung  neen-ne-na-sah. 

I  can  kill  a  white  loon.  I  can  kill. 

The  white  loon,  ram  avis  nis^roiiiir  fiimillinn  cyffnn,  is  cer- 
tainly a  rare  and  most  difficult  bird  to  kill ,  so  we  may  infer,  that 
this  boaster  can  kill  any  thing,  which  is  the  amount  of  the  mean- 
ing intended  in  that  part  of  his  song,  recorded  by  the  five  last 
figures.  Success  in  himting  they  look  tipon  as  a  virtue  of  a 
higher  character,  if  wc  may  judge  from  lliiti  song,  than  iho  pa- 


35U 


MUSIC    ASV    POV.lR\. 


ticnce  under  sufl'crin?,  or  the  rakishness  among  women,  or  even 
the  hospitality  recommended  in  the  former  part. 

8.  Ne-kau-nah-ga.  *  *  * 
My  friends.  *  *  * 

This  seems  to  b.  -^n  attempt  to  delineate  a  man  sitting  with  his 
hands  raised  to  address  his  friends ;  but  the  remainder  of  his 
speech  is  not  remembered.  This  is  sufficient  to  show  that  the 
meaning  of  the  characters  in  this  kind  of  picture  writing,  is  not 
well  settled,  and  requires  a  traditional  interpretation,  to  render  it 
intelligible. 

9.  Shah  bwo-ah-hah-mah  ne-mow-why-waw-ne-no  ah-buh-hah- 
mah  ge-we-na-she-mah-ga. 

I  open  my  wolf  skin,  and  the  death  struggle  must  follow. 
This  is  a  Wolf  skin,  used  as  a  medicine  bag,  and  he  boasts, 
that  whenever  he  opens  it,  something  must  die  in  consequence. 


I  ' 


»■     I 


m,  or  evpii 


ng  with  his 
(ider  of  his 
lOW  that  the 
iting,  is  not 
to  render  it 

ah-buh-hah- 

foUow. 
d  he  boasts, 
msequence. 


MUSIC   AND   POETRY. 


SONG  FOR  MEDICINE  HUNTING— RARELY  FOR  THE 

METAL 


lin.    1.  ',». 


:?.  4.  5.  (i.       7.         8. 


Vic-.  1,  Wa\v-iiP-jTC-ah-n;i  frah-no-geah-na  Manllo-wah-ga  gnli- 
gp-zho-hah-gwaw  gah-no-gr-ah-na. 

I  wishfid  to  be  born,  I  was  born,  and  after  I  was  born  I  made 
all  spiritH. 

'i.  Gcc-she-hah-ga  manito-whah-ga. 

I  created  the  spirits. 

The  figures  in  the  commenreinent  of  this  long  and  much  cs- 
Icemed  religious  song,  represent  Na-na-bush,  the  intiTcessor,  the 
nephew  of  mankind.  They  seem  designed  to  carry  back  the 
thonirhts  towards  the  beginning  of  time,  and  Iiave  a  iiianif»'st  al- 
hision  (o  a  period  when  this  mysterious  and  powerful  !)eijig  ex- 
ercised a  wish  Jo  assunu'  th<'  form  of  a  man.  In  the  secrmd  flgun* 
he  is  represented  as  lu)lding  a  rattle  snake  in  his  hand,  and  he 
rails  himself  the  creator  of  the  mani-toge.  The  huhan.s  calling 
invisible  and  spiritual  beings  by  the  same  name  w  hich  they  give 
to  the  lowest  class  of  reptiles,  it  is  doubtful  uhether  Na-na-busli 
here  claims  to  have  created  intelligences  superior  to  man,  or  only 
reptiles,  insects,  and  oilier  small  creatures,  which  they  commonly 
•  all  Mani-toag. 

',i.  Na-hah-be-ah-na  nu-nah-boo-shoo.  o-tish-ko-tnhn  ma-jlie- 
l\e-sha. 

He  sat  down  Nu-na-biish  ;  his  fire  burns  forever 

This  figure  appears  to  be  descriptive  n(  the  fust  assumption  In 
N'n-nti«bii>h  of  his  office.  «■<  tlie  iViend  imd  patron  nf  mm.     He  i- 


HI 
\  ml 


VW 


\ 


i  2111 


.< 


f  ^ 


1)1  i  r  f  if 


^♦*-**"j^!aMML-^ 


35ii 


MTSIC    AND    l'OLXK\. 


represented  as  taking  a  scat  on  (he  ground.  Fire,  with  ilie 
northern  Indians,  is  the  emblem  of  peace,  happiness,  and  abun- 
dance. When  one  band  goes  against  another,  they  go,  according 
to  their  language,  to  put  out  the  fire  of  their  enemies  ;  therefore, 
it  is  probable  that  in  speaking  of  the  perpetual  firecf  Na-na-busli, 
it  is  only  intended  to  alhide  to  his  great  power,  and  the  perma- 
nence of  his  independence  and  happiness.* 


i"*' 


it  ',' 


» 

Ih 


t'l 


{' 


P 


*  In  the  s'.ti!if»  figures  of  Na-ua-bush,  as  rudi-ly  delineated  by  the  Indians,  Ihor. 
is  some  resi'tnbluuce  to  the  Asiatu-  Isuara,  or  Satyavrata,  who,  in  tlic  eastern 
mythology,  is  ronneeted  with  one  of  their  deluges.  Like  Noali,  hke  Saturn,  and 
like  Iswaro,  Na-na-bush  prcservod,  during  the  inundation,  those  animals  and 
plants,  which  were  atlerwanls  to  be  useful  to  mankind ;  and  his  addresses  t )  the 
nnimiiJs,  whieh  the  Indiansi  often  re|)eat,  remind  us  of  the  age  when  one  lan- 
guage was  eonimon  to  men  and  lirutes.  (Tooke's  Pantheon,  p.  118.  Am.  ed.  i 
It  is  true,  that,  like  the  Ovidian  Deucalion,  Na-na-bush  reproduced  men,  the  M 
stock  liavin;,'  U-en  entirely  destroyed  ;  but  it  is  to  Iv  remi-nil>cred,  that  any  ri'- 
semblanre,  however  strong,  In-tween  these  tnulitinns,  have  had  ample  time  to  W 
obliterated.  Instead  of  ('om|)laniing  that  the  similarity  in  the  opinions  of  thesi' 
people  to  ancient  fables,  is  no  stronger,  we  ought,  |M'rhap8,  to  In*  surprised  thai 
any  resemblance  exists.  If  any  one  would  attempt  a  coiniarison  l>ctween  llit 
npinioDs  of  the  Americans  and  the  Pagans  of  former  ages,  or  of  any  other  ran 
he  should  bear  in  mind  how  Miirue  and  mutable  must  l)v  all  such  traditions,  ni 
an  innvritten  lan!;ungi>.  lie  must  not  Ih-  surprised  to  find,  on  close  examination, 
tlial  the  characters  of  all  pagan  deities,  male  and  female,  melt  into  each  other. 
and,  at  last,  into  one  or  two,  for  it  weins  a  well  founded  opinion,  that  tlie  whoir 
crowd  of  gods  and  goddesses  of  ancient  Itomv,  the  nicHlcrn  I  ar«»u;.<of  the  east,  ami 
Aluni-toaff  of  the  west,  mean,  originally,  only  the  |)owers  of  nature,  and  princi- 
pally those  of  the  sun,  expressed  in  u  variety  of  ways,  and  by  a  nuinbiT  of  fan 
ciful  names.     (Aaialic  Ki'searclies,  Vol.  I.  p.  •2(>1,  Load,  ed.) 

The  resemblance  Ix-twcen  the  .Vlgonkin  deity,  (\a  iia-bu.sh,)  and  Saturn  an  . 
Sntyarrala,  or  hteara,  of  the  San.si'rit,  may  U-  tiirther  traced  in  «-ach  In-ing  figun'il 
(vith  a  ser|K'nt,  sometimes  held  in  the  hand,  and  in  other  instances,  as  in  man> 
of  the  Koman  figures  of  Saturn,  in  ilie  ounith.  This  n-semblane*'  is,  perhaps 
the  more  worthy  of  retnark,  as  the  .\niericanii  seein  not  to  have  retained  any  very 
xatislaclory  explanation  of  this  circumstance. 

It  will  not  be  i,up|H)s<-(l  that  iIii'm-  vague  resembl.ances  in  religious  opinioiiK,  il 
they  may  l»>  so  e.dled,  alVord  the  means  of  tracing  the  American  triln-H  to  their 
origin.  That  tliese  iMopIc  have  customs  and  opinion-.  el,is4'lv  resemblinj;  those 
of  the  .\'.ialics,  |Kirticularly  of  the  Hebrews,  previous  to  the  christian  dis|i»'nsa 
lion,  will  not  Im>  denied;  but  the  final  result  of  all  imjuiries  into  this  siibjiM-t  will, 
|«rhaps,  Ih'  the  adoption  oi'  the  opinion  of  Hrijaut,  of  Sir  W'UHitm  Jonrs,  aw\ 
<>ther  men  ol  prolimnd  ri'searcli,  l)mt  Knypliaiis,  (ireekt,,  and  Italians,  Persians 
Kthiopians,  Phenecians,  (VIIh,  and  Tuscans,  proceeded,  originally,  frniii  one '•"i 
•rsl  pliicf,  iltid  that  the  same  i)«ople  carried  their  religion  and  sciences  tnio  rb' 


'I 


\       ^ 


ire,  wiih  llie 
88,  and  abun- 
go,  accordiiKj 
es;  therefore, 
«f  Na-na-busli. 
nd  the  perma- 


r  the  Indians,  ihcr. 
/ho,  in  <l>e  caatcni 
1,^  likr  Saturn,  nnJ 

those  animals  iinJ 
lis  acJaresses  tithe 

iig,-  when  one  Ian- 
„,  11.  IIH.  Ain.rtl.) 
Jucd  mt-n,  the  oil 
iilH^red,  that  any  tv- 

,iul  ami.lo  ti""^ '"  ^''" 
de  opinions  of  these 
to  Ih'  9urpris»'d  ili  n 
K3ri*)n  iKitween  the 
or  of  any  other  rue 
11  sueh  traditions,  m 
u  elose  examination, 
melt  into  laeh  other. 
mion,  that  the  who), 
[rfiiui.'.of  theeaHt,aiii1 
if  nature,  and  jirinn- 
by  a  number  of  fan 

^h.)  and  Srtlurn  ;iii 
i„eaehlH-in;;li2ure.l 

Instances,  ns  in  roans 
Iml.tance  is  perh'H'-^ 
,,,%.- retained  any  ver> 

^  ri  liiion-  opinions,  if 
lieriean  triU-s  to  tluir 
,.ly  resemhliuU  «1>»^'' 
L  christian  disin-nsn 
],nt.<thissnl.j«vt  will, 
Hi/fiam  Jonet,  an<l 
[„,|  Italians,  Persian;' 
finally,  from  one  '"" 
f.vl  scienrr*  int"  Chi 


MIMC    A.SU    t'utlH\. 

I.  Ta!i-gua    iie-mali-go-«o-int'-ijo,    iie-ah-ge-zhc-\t  e   nc-kaiin. 
iit'-kaim 

NotwilhstaiuUnp  y»iii  speak  evil  of  lue,  trout  above  are  n\\ 
trieitds,  my  friends. 

The  fourth  fi^tire,  tvhieh,  in  the  oii-jiual,  isn  priapus,  indicate? 
that  a  man  takes  up  the  discourse.  The  circk>  about  his  licad 
but  descending  no  lower  than  his  sliouhh-rs,  .shows  that  liis  helj. 
and  his  protection  are  from  above,  and  ta  the  strengtli  tiius  de 
rived  he  is  able  to  defy  those  who  speak  evil  of  liim,  or  seek,  by 
the  power  of  their  medicines,  to  break  his  life. 

5.  Chaw-gaw  ko-no  mau-na  se-maun-duk  waw-wau-o-sa-wai 

1  can  use  many  kinds  of  wood  to  make  a  bear  unable  to  walk. 

Tlie  business  of  hunting  is  one  of  the  first  importance  to  the 
Indians,  consequently,  ii  finds  a  place  in  his  devotions ;  indeed, 
devotion  itself  having  apparently  no  object  beyond  the  wants  and 
weaknesses  of  this  life,  relief  iti  limes  of  hunger,  is  one  of  the 
most  important  blessings  they  ever  ask  for  in  their  i)rayerH. 
Accordingly,  their  yoiiiiir  men  are  directed  never  to  use  these 
songs,  or  to  have  recourse  to  tlie  inedieiiie  htiiit,  except  in  times 
of  the  e.xtreinest  need. 

0.  Ke-te-iia-ne-me-na  wt^-nis-ze-bug-go-iia  aii-iio-kau-tum-mau- 
iia.  ke-te-na-ne-me-iia. 

Of  you  I  think,  that  you  use  the  We-iii— /e-bug-gone.  I  think 
tliis  of  you. 

The  common  spicy  winlergrctii,  a  stalk  of  which  ibis  figure  is 
intended  to  represent,  is  much  valued  as  a  medicine  by  the  In- 
dians. Il  is  called  iLY-nis-fie-hu^-^oo/i,  from  wc-iu-sik,  the 
spicy  birch,  and  hus^-s^oon,  which  in  compositio;;  means  leaf. 


na  and  Japan,  to  Mexiro  and  Peru,  and,  we  may  aild,  to  the  l>aiikii  of  ilit-  .^Iidalt 
.sippi,  and  tlie  coasts  of  Hudcon's  Kay. 

Some  of  the  arguments  a>ldneed  iti  sup|<ori  of  the  favourite  opinion,  thai  the 
Ameriean  trilies  are  the  loan  loM  renin. ml  of  the  children  of  Uriel,  eertaiiily  re- 
quire no  answer.  An  intimate  aei|uaiiilan(-e  with  niiiiiy  languages  in  now  so 
widely  dilfuwd,  an  to  nu|H'reei|p  the  necessity  of  renmrkiiie,  or  I'f  provinu,  thai 
a  stroll);  Hiinilarily  in  the  souml  ol  .■mjiih'  few  word:*  of  dillen>iit  liinuuaije.s,  even 
lliough  they  shiiuld  Ih' liiuiid  siniilir  in  meaning,  ilues  not  eslalili  h  the  tiiet  of 
oomimiiiity  of  uii^rin  :  .in<l  the  \Mile  diA<iiiiilarity  Ixtwtvii  the  .Xinerieaii  luid  ihf* 
llehri'W,  ami  its  einjiriie  dialeets.  in  the  one  pirli 'ular,  of  the  eompoundini;  of 
Words,  IS  prolmlily.  to  the  learned,  coiicluiii^e  proof  timl  our  Irilies  are,  in  no  sort 
'"■rued  from  the  llrhrew  ^loi-k 

I.-. 


ii 


r" 


;joi 


.MlSiIC    A.ND   rutlHV. 


7.  Ma-nio-\ali-ii;t,  mis-kwr,  ina-nio-yah-nii. 
That  whirh  I  lakr  [is]  blood,  that  which  I  take. 

Here  is  the  figure  of  a  bear  Iyin»  dead  on  the  ground,  and  a 
hand  is  thrust  into  the  body,  to  take  out  some  of  the  blood.  The 
instruction  communicated  probably  is,  (hat  when  the  prayers  of- 
fered in  the  preparation  for  tlie  medicine  hunt  have  been  answer- 
ed, and  an  animal  killed,  offerings  should  be  immediately  made, 
by  taking  some  of  the  blood  in  the  hand,  and  pouring  it  on  the 
ground  :  or,  as  is  more  commonly  done,  by  throwing  a  handful  of 
it  towards  each  of  the  four  cardinal  points. 

8.  Ili-a-gwo  nc-ma-nah-ho-gahn  nah-we-he-a !  whe-e-ya  I 
Now  I  have  something  to  eat. 

The  two  last  words  seem  to  have  no  very  definite  meaning ; 
they  arc  repeated  at  the  end  of  some  of  the  sentences,  apparently 
only  to  lengthen  out  the  sound.  This  figure  is  that  of  a  lein  and 
hungry  man,  who,  having  asked  for  food,  has  been  heara,  and  is 
now  proceeding  to  allay  his  hunger. 


If.      !'*>. 


9.  We-\\ah-kwa  bc-gah-na  niaiii-to-ga. 

I  cover  my  head,  sitting  down  to  sleep,  ye  spirits. 

The  figure  is  that  of  a  man,  probably  designed  to  he  represent- 
ed in  a  recumbent  position,  and  drawing  his  blanket  over  him. 
His  prayer  having  been  answered,  his  wants  supplied,  he  de- 
clares to  (he  spirits  his  intention  to  take  repose. 

10.  Moosh-kin  a-guh-wah  nian-i-to-whah,  whah-he-yah !  whr- 
lin-ya !  &c. 

1  fill  my  kettle  for  the  spirit. 

This  is  the  liunter's  lodge,  and  thoketlh?  iianging  in  il  confaiiic 
liic  heart  of  the  animal  killed  in  the  medicine  hunt,  of  which  none 
but  a  man  and  a  hunter  must  venture  to  taste.     Should  a  woman 


III!!! : 

■  tic' 


\    \ 


i;^^  k  . 


>* 


ML',<IC    AMI   VdL  I  HV, 


'.\7itt 


)un(l,  und  ii 
,lo<.(l.  The 
!  prayers  of 
)ecn  answcr- 
iaU'ly  niu(l»% 
ng  it  on  tlio 
a  handful  of 

e-e-ya ! 

ilc  meaning ; 
s,  apparently 
of  a  lt"^n  and 
hearo,  and  is 


l.'i. 


I  be  roprcscnt- 

likrl  over  liini. 

ipliod,  ho  d(  - 

Lhe-yah!  whr- 


in  il  contain? 
lof  which  non*" 
loiild  .1  wonjai^ 


•  tr  a  (iotr  cx'«'ii  touch  lliis  Jicail.  <ir  tlit>  bland  of  ilio  animal,  suddtn 
ifrntfi,  or  rniirciiiio-  sickness,  woidil  f'dluw  il.  This  efl'ci:!,  as 
well  as  the  dark  colour  whlcli  the  Imiiaiis  say  the  skin  of  the  fe- 
males assumes,  in  instances  of  the  violation  of  this  nde,  they  at- 
trihufc  to  the  ellect  of  tlie  medicine  applied  hy  the  hunter  to  tlio 
heart  of  the  Me-ze-nin-ne-shah.  They  point  out  instances  of 
women,  formerly  distinguished  among  them  for  beauty,  and  par- 
ticularly for  the  fairness  of  the  skin,  who,  iiy  eating  of  the  heart, 
or  touching  the  blood  of  an  animal  killed  in  medicine  hunting, 
have  not  (miy  lost  that  enviable  distinction,  but  have  become 
disgusting  and  frightful  objects,  the  skin  being  blackened  and 
covered  with  ulcers. 

11.  Nah-nah-wa-kum-me-ga  wa-nuk-ke-she   nuh-neh   keen-0- 
wah  man-i-to-whah. 

Long  ago,  in  the  old  time,  since  I  laid  myself  down,  yo  arft 
spirits. 

This  is  the  tigure  of  a  snake  running  «»ver  the  ground  ;  but 
some  are  of  opinion  that  the  delineation  should  be  dillerent, 
namely,  an  old  woman  lying  down  in  the  middle  of  the  ground. 
A  new  speaker  is  here  introduced,  wliicli  is  the  mytlMdogical 
personage;  called  Me-suk-kum-nie-go-k\va,  tfic  grand  mother  ol 
mankind,  to  whom  Na-iia-bush  gave  in  keeping,  for  the  use  of  his 
uncles  and  aunts,  all  roots  and  plants,  and  otlier  medicines,  de- 
rived from  the  earth.  She  received,  at  llie  s;une  time,  e-pcciai 
direction  never  to  leave  hotne.  and  always  to  surrender  to  men 
llie  treasures  deposited  in  her  bosom,  wlu  ii  they  should  be,  in  u 
-uitable  manner,  demanded  of  her.  Jlence  it  is,  that  the  medicine 
men  make  an  addr-ss  to  Me-suk-kuni-nie-go-kwa.  whenever  they 
lake  any  thing  from  tlie  eartli.   which  is  to  be  n.-ed  as  medicine. 

I'-I.  iNe-mo-kin-nen-naun  she-inaim-dnk  kwnn-ne-no  nuh-pe- 
iiio-ke-ne-nann. 

1  open  yon  for  a  hear,  I  open  you. 

■yie-snk-knin-me-go-kwa  speaks  to  one  of  the  medicines  whoso 
power  she  had  ju^t  acknowledired,  by  calling  them  s|)irits,  and 
«ays,  I  disclose,  or  reveal  you  lor  a  bear,  or  to  enable  the  hunter 
lu  kill  a  bear. 

\',i.  Me-loo-ga  nian-i-to-loo-'Ta,  heo-yeo->ah-yoh  !  he-gp-tah- 
waw-kum-mc-ga  wy-oan  do-sa-jeek  mc-to-ga-nah,  whe-i-nh  !  whr- 
,-oh  ' 


1 


iiiiJi'     I 

1 1 


Mfk^-'^-liimtu. — ^.  «- 


;r)f. 


Misu    AM)  i'(ii;ru\. 


Tlial  is  a  Sjiirit  wliirli  con\o<  both  from  alxno  and  hrlow, 
jIFovo  llicy  i)pn;iii  to  danrr.] 

II.  Wliain-jo-ncpn-(la  sii-maii-qra  rli.ili-gc-mah-ni-to-whah-ga. 
[Tu-ior.] 

Nceii-iiis-sali  wccn-iiecii-dali  so-mah-«p-ncen-nah  chah-ga-to 
man-i-to  wliali-ga,  yah-wc-hc-ya  I  whr-gr-a !     [Twirp.] 

I  am  ho  that  givelh  siirross,  hecausc  all  spirits  help  mr. 

15.  Me-irc-iie-nali  inc-go-iic-nah  mc-gwim-iiah-ga  me-ge-nc- 
nah,  whc-hv-ya !     [Twiro.] 

The  feather,  the  feather;  it  is  the  thing,  the  feather. 

It  sometimes  happens  that  the  hunter  has  wandered  far  from 
his  k  dge,  and  has  neither  birch  bark  on  which  to  delineate  his 
Me-i-,en-ne-neenR,  nor  o-num-nii,  or  other  powerful  medicine,  to 
..pply  to  its  heart.  In  these  cases  he  takes  some  of  the  ashes  of 
his  tire,  and  spreading  it  on  a  smooth  ])lace,  he  traces  in  it  the 
figure  of  tlie  animal ;  he  llien  takes  a  feather  and  sticks  it  in  th'- 
heart,  then  a])p!irs  (ire  until  it  is  consumed  to  the  surface  of  the 
ashes,  and  on  tliis  he  places  the  same  reliance  as  on  the  more 
common  method  of  Irealimr  the  Me-zen-ue-neen-'. 


'■■  'i     I 


ir. 


17. 


!"*. 


Il». 


i   t 


'i(\ 


U 


|(i.  Wha  »i-m;ui-i-l()-\vhah  .'  Iir-dli-r-wln-i/ii !  nia-she-ge-na  pc- 
po-sa-jrek  wli:i-iii-|i'  mau-i-lu-\vliah,  ah-keeng  pa-mo-sah  fiuh- 
hr-whe-ya ! 

Who  is  n  spirit  ?  lie  ifiat  walkelh  with  llie  serpent,  walkini' 
oil  the  iirouiul;  he  is  a  sjiiril. 

This  fiijure  is  nearly  the  .same  as  is  iriveii  to  Na-oa-bush,  in 
the  beiiiimiiigorihe  souir,  and  an  allusion  is  probably  intended  to 
the.  time  when  this  interpreter  betwi-en  mankiiul  aiul  the  Supreme 
Spirit,  the  Oeator  of  all  thinffs,  was  driven  from  the  presence 
of  his   fatlier,    to   dwell  with  ibi-  meanest    ihiuirs   of  this  world. 


(i\(l  bcliiw. 
o-whah-ga. 

chah-ga-tii 

•1 

p  me. 

I  mc-ge-nc- 

r. 

•ed  far  from 
delineate  hi^ 
medicine,  to 
the  ashes  of 
ces  in  it  the 
irks  it  in  tlm 
iirface  of  tlic 
on  the  mori 


vJO. 


slir-ije-na  |>i'- 
-iiio-sali    hah- 

Kiit,  walliint' 

a-uii-l)Usli,  in 

y  intended  to 

tiie  Sni)rcme 

the  presenre 

(if  thi^i  world. 


Mvsic;  AM)  ri)t:iuv. 


357 


The  alhisioiis  in  the  traditionary  fable.s  of  the  Algonkins,  to  the 
quarrel  between  Na-na-bush  and  the  (Jreat  Spirit,  arc  frequent, 
and  eannol  fail  to  remind  any  one  oC  the  most  important  ot'  the 
doctrinea  of  the  ehrislian  ridigion.  It  can  scaree  be  doubted  that, 
from  some  source  or  other,  these  people  have  derived  some  ob- 
.scure  conceptions  of  the  incarnation  and  mediatorial  oflice  of  the 
second  person  iu  the  Divine  Trinity.* 

*  In  Mr.  M'Kcnnpy's  "Tour  to  the  Lakrs,"  p.  000,  005,  some  account  is  given 
of  \a-na-hoii-Ji)ii,  anil  the  rcnovatinn  of  liir  cartli  aftor  llu'  licluirc,  wliich  agrofs, 
in  must  particular»i,  vcrv  closely  with  the  trailitioiis  aniouu  the  Ottawwaws  anrl 
MenoiuDiiies.  Kut  these  last  relat''  it  v  th  the  follDwiiiir  addition  :  "  When  the 
earth,  which  was  found  in  the  claws  and  in  the  )nouth  of  the  muskral,  iK-iran  to 
expand  itself  upon  the  surface  of  the  water,  Na-na-hou-jou  sat,  day  aft<;r  day, 
watching  i.ft  enlargement.  When  he  was  no  longer  utile  to  see  the  extent  of  it, 
he  sent  out  a  wolf,  and  (old  him  to  run  rouml  all  the  gro\nid,  and  then  return  to 
him,  that  he  might  thus  know  how  large  it  had  Invome.  'I'lie  wolf  was  absent 
only  a  short  limi\  and  returned.  .After  sometime  he  sent  him  out  the  second 
lime,  with  similar  directions,  and  he  was  gone  two  years.  Agniu,  alter  this.  In; 
-ent  him  out,  and  he  returned  no  more.  Then  Na-iia-l>ou-jou  gave  the  animals, 
all  of  whom  he  called  Ve-she-inih,  (my  younii'V  I'rolher.J  each  his  own  pecidiar 
km(loft()o<l.  lie  also  told  such  of  them  as  were  to  Ih' ll)r  food  for  men,  that  he 
had  given  them  to  his  uncles,  and  they  must  expect,  from  time  to  time,  to  lie 
liimleil  and  killed  ;  he  also  enjoineii  it  upon  them,  that  as  lung  as  men  should 
>  liiwse  a  s|M'edy  and  merciful  metluMl  of  killing  them,  they  should  make  no  resist- 
•incc  J  but,  in  ea«i's  of  wanton  and  cruel  injury,  they  might  turn  to  rewiwt."' 

Il  is  also  to  Ik"  observed,  that  this  renovation  of  (lii>  earth  is  clearly  distingui>h- 
iil,  in  the  traditions  of  the  Ottawwaws,  from  the  origin.d  creation,  which  was  lon^r 
previous.  How  much  of  the  instructions  of  the  JesuitH,  and  of  other  whites,  m«y 
now  lie  combined  in  these  legends,  it  is  dillicult  to  say.  I'lit  they  rekale  that 
men,  before  the  (l.iod,  though  thi'y  had  been  long  betiire  upright  and  good,  had 
now  become  e\<'eedingly  di-gi  nenite ;  but  they  ilo  not  assign  this  as  the  caus4>  for 
which  the  deluge  was  brought  upon  the  earth.  They  s.ay  that  the  younger 
brother  of  .Va-na-iKiu-jon  was  slain  by  the  (iieal  Spirit,  the  fatlur  of  iHtth,  and  it 
was  in  grief  and  in  aiigi'r  that  Na-n,ilH>u-iou  himself  caused  the  earth  to  be 
overwhelmed.  To  so  great  an  extent  did  he  carry  his  resj-ntnient  against  the 
Great  Spirit,  and  the  olhir  Spirit-,  that  Ibey,  with  the  hojieolapiieasiiig  him,  re- 
^tored  his  brother  to  lite.  Hut  Na-na-lxHl  Jon  said,  "  No,  my  brother,  this  cannot 
be,  that  anv  should  die  ami  come  aunin  to  live  here  as  U-liirp;  return  ,igain  to 
the  jilace  to  which  they  had  si'ul  you  ;  it  is  there  that  many  of  my  uncles  and 
aunts  must  come  every  year.  Vou  shall  Ih'  the  triciul  and  the.  protector  of  those. 
n«  1  am  of  the  liviriL',  who  are  here  mi  tliisearih  "  lie  niuriied  accordingly,  and 
it  is  this  brother  of  Na-nabou-jou,  who  is  novvR|token  of  asXiNc-OAii-BE-ARNoNo 
Man-i-to,  (the  western  gixl,)  though  this  is  not  his  name,  by  which  he  wa? 
known  to  hii*  brother.  He  is  the  goil  of  the  country  of  the  dead,  tlir<  towns  of 
■he  Je-bi-ug,  which  are  always  towards  the  srltiiig  sun. 


W 


(•MA* 


•4N- 


if  i 


'6:}b 


>\IAIC    AM)     1'UK1K\. 


i.     t 


17.  Ilc-ah  gut-tah  wees-scnc,  wim-iHt-kwa  noeu-nali  nceii-d*- 
kwa-wuir-L'<'-|?Ji  weeii-dum  iiiah-wuii  iieou-nali-liali ncen-iiah  wht- 
hc-ya  ! 

Now  they  will  *'at  something,  my  women ;  now  I  tell  them 
they  will  eat. 

Tliis  tigure,  with  open  mouth  and  distended  belly,  seems  Id 
speak  the  language  of  human  thanksgiving,  and  gratitude  for  f;'- 
vours  conferred  by  a  superior  power. 

18.  O-num-mun-nah  nin-go-ohe-we-nah.     [Twice.] 
This  yellow  ochre,  I  will  try  it. 

The  o-num-mun,  a  yellowish  earth,  wluch  they  find  in  many 
places,  and  which  i:s  particularly  abundant  on  one  of  the  branches 
of  the  Illinois  Kiver,  thence  called  O-num-mun-ne  See-be,  when 
roasted  in  tlie  fir*',  becomes  red,  and  is  a  medicine  to  which  they 
attribute  great  power.  It  is  a  little  sack  of  this  which  is  dispro- 
portionately represented  in  the  hand  of  the  figure. 

li>.  Yah-hah  nin-go-che-we-nah  whe-he-ya-ha  !  bc-nais-se-wa\v 
yah-hah  nin-go-tin-non-gay  nin-go-che-hah-hah,  yah-hah  nin-go- 
te-non-ga. 

Now  I  wish  to  try  n>y  bird  ;  sometime  ;  I  used  to  try,  and  somc- 
limes  it  used  to  be  something. 

The  figure  is  that  of  a  bird's  skin,  in  which  his  medicine  i- 
contained,  and  it  is  that,  and  not  the  skin  itself,  he  wishes  to  try. 

30.  Ah-wes-sie  necs-sah  neen-no,  ka-she-c-way  ke-kaun-nc- 
nah  ;  ah-wis-sie  nees-sah  neen-no,  whe-he-ya !  hc-whe-ya ! 

I  can  kill  any  animal,  liecause  the  loud-speaking  thunder  help^ 
me  :  I  can  kill  any  animal. 

This  large  bird,  whose  open  mouth  indicates  the  power  ot  his 
voice,  is  not  one  who  ird\abits  the  earth,  or  is  ever  seen ;  he  livc> 
in  the  clouds,  and  his  voice  is  the  thunder.  He  is  more  com- 
monly called  a-nim-me-kce,  but  here  ke-kaun  ;  our  loud  sounding 
medicine  is  strong  to  give  us  wind  or  rain,  or  whatever  state  of 
the  air  mav  be  needful  to  ensure  success  in  the  himf. 


I: 


y  . 


I  nccii-iU- 
i-nab  wh»'- 

tcU  them 

y,  seems  in 
itude  for  (>'- 


iml  in  many 
the  branches 
ke-he,  when 
i>  which  ihty 
ich  iri  ilispi'"- 

s-nais-sc-waw 
h-hah  nin-go- 

,ry,  ami  sonic- 

s  medicine  i> 
wislies  to  try. 
ke-kaun-nc- 
,vhe-ya ! 
tlmndcr  hclp- 

le  power  ot  his 
seen ;  he  livc- 
is  more  com- 
Idiid  sounding 

luitever  state  oi 

lint. 


MirslU    AND    rOETRV. 


369 


•40. 


*J1.  Mah-mo-yah-na  hah-che-mauii-duk  hah-yo-ta-he  inah-mo- 
yah-na. 

I  take  a  bear,  hi.s  heart  I  take. 

The  aUu.sion  is  here  to  the  observances  respecting  the  lieart 
and  bloc)  of  animals  kiUed  in  medicine  hnnting,  and  the  sacri- 
fices to  I  if  made  in  the  event  of  success. 

22.  ()-she-shn-g\va-waw  tun-wa-we-tun-ga  necn-dah  biih- 
zheen-ga  tun-wa-we-tim-ga,  whe-he-ya ! 

A  rattle  snake  makes  a  noise  on  the  poles  of  my  lodge ;  he 
makes  a  noise. 

The  jealousy  of  rival  hunters  is  a  frequent  cau.se  of  quarrels 
jiul  troubles  among  the  Indians.  This  man  boasts  that  the  rattle 
snake,  which  always  gives  notice  when  danger  is  near,  is  on  the 
poles  of  his  lodge,  and  no  evil  can  come  near  him  without  his 
being  informed  of  it.  His  life  is  guarded  by  a  superior  power, 
and  he  fears  not  what  his  enemies  can  do  to  liim. 

23.  O-shaw-wah-no  nah-o-bah-guh-he  gun-nun-na,  ho-kah-mik 
a-no-2rweh,  whe-he-ya !  Neen-da-bwa-wa  se-to  nah-na,  whc-hc ! 
ya-ha  ! 

To  a  Shawnee,  the  four  sticks  used  in  this  song  belonged. 
When  struck  together  they  were  heard  all  over  the  country. 

Th's  is  the  figure  of  a  man  holding  in  his  left  hand  the  four 
iiah-o-bah-e-gun-nun,  or  sticks,  on  which  this  song  was  recorded, 
and  the  authorship  is  claimed  by  a  Shawnee,  from  whom  the 
Ojibbcways  acknowledge  to  have  received  it ;  and  here,  it  is  pro- 
bable, the  performance  originally  concluded.  The  remaining 
figures  appear  to  have  been  addtd  from  other  songs. 

24.  lli-ah  shahwo  mah-mo-ke-ah-na  Man-i-to  ne-whaw-baw- 
maw  ah-mik-kwug  n*'  whaw-baw-maig,  whe-ha-ya  ! 

I  come  up  from  below;  I  come  down  from  above;  I  see  tli' 
spirit ;  I  see  beavers. 


I  ■li 


' 


.<»*—*«•. 


:m 


>li;.sic   AND   Vl»KTR\. 


ff    I 


!^ 


'V'"'  <losiiTii  of  this  fitriiiT  is  to  suggest  to  the  miixl,  tliat  tlu 
.•"p'sriS  to  whiun  t\w  jiriiyers  in  tlie  medicine  hunting  are  address- 
v(t  ito  only  knows  where  animals  are  on  the  surface  of  the 
ground,  hut  that  so  great  is  his  power,  he  can  create  them  where 
they  did  not  before  (;xist,  to  supply  the  wants  of  those  that  pray 
unto  him,  and  can  cause  tlu-m  to  come  up  out  of  the  earth. 

iir>.  Wc-waw-bun  o-kah-tawn  neen-gah-bcah  no-kwa-nah  we- 
^law-bun  o-kah-tawn,  we-he-lia-ya  ! 

1  can  mak(!  an  east  wind  come  and  pass  over  the  ground. 

This  is  sung  four  times,  tlie  north,  the  west,  and  the  soutii 
winds  being  each,  in  turn,  substituted  for  the  east  wind  here 
spoken  of.  The  meaning  is,  that  the  spirit  has  power  to  give  a 
wind  in  any  direction  that  may  he  necessary  for  the  success  of 
the  hunter  ;  that  he  controls  all  the  chanires  of  the  a1mos|)hcre. 
and  will  overrule  them  in  such  a  manni^r  as  to  ensure  the  success 
of  those  whose  medicine  is  strong  :  in  other  words,  whose  prayer 
i^  eHectual.  They  nnist  therefore  neither  regard  the  wind  nor  the 
sky,  but  go  forward  in  contidence  of  success.  The  idea  of  thr 
circle  in  this  figure,  into  which  the  wuids  are  represented  as  rush- 
ing, is  derived  from  the  apparent  form  of  the  visible  iiorizon  ;  tin 
Indians  neither  know,  nur  will  tliey  believe  that  the  foi.n  of  thi 
earth  is  L'^lobnlar. 


I^r 


till."    ^ 
I*  I  I 


)H}. 


27. 


'  d 


W 


-,  I 


•-itj.  Na-nah  nub-be-gah-ne-na  ha-ge-(ah  wah-kum-me-ga  uk-ke- 
ko-no-dah  go-na,  neen-na-nali  nah-be-yahn-ne-na,  ke-na-nali  nub- 
be-ah  n«'cn-na,  whe-he-yah  !  we-he-ya  ! 

Thus  have  I  sat  down,  and  the  earth  above  and  below  has  lis- 
tened to  me  sitting  here. 

This  is  agftin  the  figure  of  Na-na-bush,  sitting  on  the  earth,  in 
ilir  same  attittuie  in  which  he  is  represented  in  the  first  part  of 


fiiinti 
the 
man 
seen 


\         ^ 


Ml'SIC  AM)   l'liKIU\  . 


•Ml 


(I,  Uiat  tin 
:c  aildress- 
icc  of  tlu' 
hem  where 
e  Unit  pray 
earth, 
wa-nah  we- 

■ound. 

x\   the  soutii 
t  wind  here 
iver  to  give  a 
ic  success  oi" 
atmosphere, 
•e  the  success 
kvliose  prayer 
I  wind  nor  the 
le  idea  of  t!\e 
enled  as  riish- 
;  liurizon  ;  the 
,e  foin  of  tht 


lii-mc-ga  uk-ke- 
Ike-na-nah  n\ib- 

|l  below  has  lis- 

)n  the  earth,  ii» 
Ihc  first  part  "f 


ihe  perroniiaiice.  The  nuiiniiiir  i-*,  tliat  all  who  join  in  these  de- 
votional exercises  must,  throughout  their  continuance,  which  is 
lor  tlic  {Treater  part  of  the  iii<fht,  retain  iuunoveably  the  same  at- 
titude, and  give  a  serious  attention  to  the  performer,  who  must 
observe  the  same  rule  ;  and  when  all  is  tinished,  he,  without  ut- 
tering a  word  to  any  of  those  about  him,  rises  and  walks  out  of 
the  lodge. 

27.  Pa-mo-ta-yah-na  che-maun  duh-kwa  pa-mo-ta-yah-ga,  whe- 
he-ya-ha  ! 

1  make  to  crawl,  a  bear,  I  make  to  crawl. 

Probably  the  meaning  is,  that  by  these  observances,  and  by 
Uiis  prayer,  the  hunter  may  cause  to  crawl  [kill]  a  bear,  or  any 
animal.  It  is  to  be  observi-d,  that  a  bear  is  never,  in  these  songs, 
railed  by  the  common  name,  but  always  che-mahn-duk. 

It  requires  two  years  of  attentive  study,  in  the  intervals  of 
leisure  that  occur  in  the  life  of  a  hunter,  to  learn  this  song,  and 
he  must  pay  his  instructor  the  value  of  many  beaver  skins.  It 
was  first  introduced  into  the  band  to  wiiich  Mr.  Tanner  belonged, 
liy  an  Ojibbeway  of  the  village  of  Was-waw-gun-nink.  Our  nar- 
rator, as  well  as  his  foster  brother,  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  had  paid 
this  man,  whose  name  was  Ke-zha-shoosh,  great  sums  for  his 
medicines,  and  it  was  a  quarrel  originating  in  this  subject,  whicii 
ended  in  his  assassination  by  Wa-me-gon-a-biew,  as  related  in  the 
preceding  narrative.  The  Ojibbeways  of  Red  River  relate,  and 
.^oinc  of  them  hrliccc,  that  very  wonderful  efl'ects  have  been  pro- 
duced by  this  soug,  and  the  medicine  belonging  to  it,  such  as. 
tliat  after  using  it  for  four  days  one  man  succeeded  in  bringing  a 
live  moose  into  the  midst  of  the  village  at  Was-waw-gun-nink 
in  such  a  state  of  fatuity,  that  he  made,  though  uninjured,  no  ef- 
fort to  escape.  These  extravagant  fables  remind  us  of  the  pow- 
rrs  attributed  by  the  ancients  to  the  music  of  Orpheus,  and  others 
of  the  earliest  poets. 

One  of  the  established  customs  of  the  Indians,  in  relation  to 
iiunting,  tiiough  not  innnediately  connected  with  the  subject  of 
the  prccedini;  song,  may  be  here  mentioned.  As  in  the  case  of 
many  other  customs,  its  origin  is  unknown,  but  i\<  tendency 
seems  to  be  to  encourage  the  spirit  of  generous  hospitality,  and 
'"  render  the  proceeds  of  the  chase  the  common  property  of  the 

4rt 


ll.  " 


''w:^ 


}■ '' 


»;•  •■  i 


362 


MISIC    AND    POETRY. 


band  tn  Avhirli  the  hiiiilpr  bclonrrs.  Th<'  riist(»ni  is,  that  if  any 
inaii,  in  iPtnrnint;  from  his  hunt,  no  niatlor  how  lon^  and  htho- 
rious  it  may  have  horn,  or  how  trnat  may  \ir  the  nocossitifis  of 
his  own  family,  meet  another  just  slarlinff  out  to  himl,  or  cvrn  a 
littli"  l)oy  walking  from  the  rami)  or  \  illa^^ro,  he  is  bound  to  thro\\ 
down  at  his  foct,  and  ifivo  him  whatever  he  may  have  brought. 
It  is  partly  to  avoid  llie  efTert  of  this  custom,  that  the  men  often 
limes  hMve  their  game  on  the  spot  where  they  killed  it,  and  thi 
women  are  sent  to  bring  in  th<'  meat.  In  other  insi.inces  the 
hunter  curries  the  animal  on  his  baek  as  fir  as  he  thinks  he  ran 
without  the  risk  of  meeting  men,  then  eonreals  it,  and  goes  home 
iVo  difference  is  said  to  be  made  when  game  is  taktii  which  is 
not  needed  in  the  village  for  food  ;  l>eavers,  otters,  martins,  or 
whatever  the  hunter  may  have  taken,  he  is  expected  to  ridinciuish 
fo  the  person  who  meets  him. 


I'l     i 


|swAK\  jf  Iinliu,  t/ir  Satiun  i>f  Itahj,  the  NANAnrsii  ofth' 

Mgniikiiix. 


[Sec  Atialic  linenrclnf,  Vol.  /.  p  "Jl!*  J 


u. 


1H.SK      x\))     POFIIIV 


.«()3 


that  if  ain- 
/  and  \i\\w- 
:ossiUPs  ol 
t,  or  even  a 
lul  to  throv 
!V:  brought 
men  often- 
it,  and  lli' 
iisiancos  tlu' 
links  he  can 
1  jroi's  honn' 
rn  wliich  i^ 
,  martins,  or 
to  rilimiuisli 


nisii  «; 


fth 


\-,t  rp'iV'l 


SONU  FOK  THE  MKDICIM:  lirNTIXi.  I'ARTICI  L\K- 
l-Y  FOK  BKAVKUS. 


Vw.  I. 


U. 


,^  ^, 


Via.  I.  Clio-inalin-dnk-kwa  nr-muIi-kui-o-s:i  nc-ali-hah-wa,  no- 
an-liali-ua,  nc-nuili-kwi-o-sa,  Iw-ah-whc-hi  -u/i ! 

A  bear,  I  walk  like  a  bear  niysell";  myscll".  I  walk  like  a  bear. 


Tl. 


le  hu'dii'iiu'  man  here  speaks  in  Ins  disoiiiM 


ol'  a  bear  skin 


\e-Minli-kui-o-~a  mi),'ht  he  more  literall)  translated"!  walk  a 
liear;"  it  is  the  eumponnd  olneen-mnk-kuaw  and  pa-[iali-mo-sa. 
•  >r  ()a-bah-nn>-sa.  I'he-mahn-duk  is  <  niiunonly  used,  in  thesi- 
>onirs,  lor  a  hear. 

•-I.  Ah-wes-sie  hi-ah-wa-nali  hah-lw a-\M-lahni;-!{ih  !  \Vaw- 
x\ash-ke^h  r-wah  hah-twa-we-tahnj>-nah. 

.\  beast,  what  beast  comes  eallinir  f     ll  is  a  deer  eonu-s  eallin<;. 

The  word  hali-lwu-we-lahn>;->rah  is  ixpressive  not  only  of  the 
|ieeiiliai'  eall  of  the  male    deer,  at  thi'  riiltini)  si-ason,  hut  also  ol 


ilu-  eireumstane."  that  tl 


u-   annna 


s    ap|iroachnii;   IIk-   speaker 


Ih 


were  he   {joinu;  the   other  way,  or   even  :;itanding  .-ilill,  the  word 
would  he  ditrerenl. 
'.\.  O-innn-num-nali  inn-tro-ehe-we-nah.     [Twii'i.  | 


Til 


IS  \(llo\v  oehre 


ill  t 


rv  It. 


This  is  the  sann.  in  all  respects,  ns  No,  !>»,  in  the  preeedin^ 
sonj;  to  i\a-na-hiish. 

'i.  VVun-nr  ho-i-yahn,  wmi-ne  h<i-i-ali-na  nali-we-lie-u  he-o-ge- 
uiah-wah  Ka-hr-Wiiw-hiii  i-mt-kwain  «  un-ue-hoi-\ah  nah-we-ne-n. 

I  disjjiiist'  myselC  to  clual  vou,  *io  thai  oid\   a  rliirf,  if  he  sees 


ine,  ran  know  w 


ho  i 


am. 


The  himter,   to  dee«'i\e  the  animal  he   wi.shes  to  kill,  putH  on 
!|ie  dre«H  uf  a  white  num.  or  .isMumes   Mie  nppenrnnee  of  %nmr 


}"mn: 


^Hmm 


jt^; ,  ;->  ■►ft.'^ijifcig^^^. 


Mi 


>lf     ANU    I'DK.IIIV. 


harmlrs^  cifatinT,  and  hr  boa>tstliat  his  disguiM"  is  so  porlofl  as 
to  deceive  any  but  a  rhiet  medicine  man,  or  a  ureal  hunter.  It 
phoidd  be  remombered,  that  (he  langiiage  ol"  tliese  songs  is  com- 
monly that  of  distant  allusion,  rather  than  direct  figure ;  hence, 
though  the  words  nuiy  seem  unmeaning  to  us,  they  ahvajs  con- 
vey much  signification  l<t  the  Indians.  Thus,  in  this  instance, 
though  the  hunter  say.i  he  puis  on  the  appearance  of  a  white  man. 
it  is  probalile  he  means  that  he  disguises  himself  as  a  ucar,  or 
some  other  animal.  e«iually  harmless  with  a  man  who  wears  a 
hat,  or  a  while  man.  Tliat  the  Indians  should  think  liltlc  of 
ihr  white  man's  "^kill  in  hunllng,  is  by  no  means  surprising. 


g. 


(■>. 


? 


>(■■    1 


I 


r/ 


•  '  .    -t 


o.  l-ah-iir-wah-ho  go-mo-yaun.  i-ah-ne-wah-lio  go-mo-yann  . 
i-am-mik-gung-ga-nali ;  i-ah-ne-wah-ho  go-mo-yaun. 

Can  any  one  remain  longer  under  water  than  me  ?  I  am  bea- 
ver, and  I  can  remain  longer  tiian  any  under  waler. 

This  language,  descriptive  of  the  dilfn  iiliies  in  taking  beaver. 
is  put  iiitii  (he  moiiili  of  (he  animal  liimsell. 

t>.  I-an-we-be-ah-ne  ne-hub-be-ah-na  be-ah-na.  [Many  times 
reppHled.] 

I  am  well  loaded  ;  I  sit  down  (o  re>l  ;   I  am  loaded. 

The  iiunter  hears,  but  he  regards  no(  (he  boasting  language  ol 
(he  bcuvrr.  The  evidence  of  bis  skill  a  id  success  is  on  his  buck, 
suspi-nded  by  a  sirap  passing  round  his  forehead  ;  and  to  nij^nify 
'!ia(  his  loail  is  heavy,  Iw  si(s  down  (o  res(. 

7.  Mah-mo-ke-hea  hi-ah-maunii-w iig-e-he-a  inan-i-(o-we-he-tnli 

He  muHt  come  up,  even  the  loon,  though  lie  is  ManKo. 

Thin  in  another  answer  of  (he  hunter  to  the  boast  of  (he  bruver. 
Are  you  h  grraler  diver  (huii  the  loon  ?  Yet  even  he  nni.-^t  rise 
to  the  surface  after  a  certain  '.i;r.r.  The  coun(ry  of  (he  Ojibbr- 
wav«  aboundinir  in  small  lake**,  which  sometimes  lie  verv  near 


i        I 


MTSIC    AN1>    I'OKTKY. 


:{«M 


hunter.     1' 
nors  is  fom- 
u-c  ;  hence, 
ahvaj  s  con- 
\\s  instance, 
i  white  man. 
i  a  near,  or 
^lio  wears  ii 
ink  liiilc  of 
irirtinii. 

9. 


go-mo-y!i"" 

n. 

P  ?  I  am  beii- 

llHkinjr  beaver. 


[Many 


tuTie'^ 


1.  tl. 

\\Q  liinsiuiit!;e  ol 

lisonliisbacK. 

and  to  fii£?niiy 

^i-io-we-he-tali 

Manitt). 

of  ilie  beaver. 
li  he  must  rise 
|,M  the  Ojibbr- 
lir  verv  nenr 


i-ach  otiier,  without  any  visible  eommnniealion,  they  have  taken 
np  the  idea  that  eomnumieatitms  exist  under  ground,  and  they 
believe  a  loon  ean  dive  down  in  one,  and  eonie  up  in  another  ol" 
them.  They  think,  also,  that  the  beaver  can  carry  down  so 
much  air  entanfrlcd  in  his  coat,  that  if  left  undisturbed  at  the  bot- 
tom, he  can  thrust  his  nose  into  his  fur,  and  breathe  for  some 
time. 

H.  Whe-gah  wecn-ah-wa\v  sah-ge-mah-tik-o-waw,  hio-go-mah- 
waw,  sali-go-mah-tik-o-waw. 

I  can  cut  down  that  chief  tree,  though  it  he  the  tree  of  a  chief. 

The  beaver  says  he  can  cut  down  any  tree.  Thougli  a  great 
hunter,  and  a  man  of  medicine,  may  claim  the  tree,  though  ho 
may  have  placed  it  there,  tlie  beaver  can  cut  it  down.  Sah-gem- 
ah-tik  reminds  us  of  the  word  Sa-chem,  derived  from  some  ol 
the  eastern  dialects  of  the  Algonkin. 

J>.  Neen-dah  no-je-ah  we-ah-wing  nian-i-to-we-tah  we-ah-wing. 
&c. 

Though  he  is  Maniio,  I  can  work  to  take  his  bod\. 

This  is  the  hunter,  culling  open  the  ice,  or  breaking  up  tiie 
beaver's  lodge,  in  pursuit  <<(  him.  (Al  the  bar  lh(>v  begin  to 
dance. 1 


10. 


11. 


12. 


13. 


10.  y .'. be-i5o-tin-no-waw a-zhe-tm-na  chaw-gaw-Mais-sie a-zhe 
iin-nn. 

I  woiiM  .'h  »oi,  as  you  told  me,  any  animal  ;  as  you  told  me. 

Thi.*  IS  addressed  to  Na-iia-bush,  ami  the  hunter  professes  his 
desiif  to  follow  h'  I'dvice  in  every  thing,  that  be  may  lie  assured 
s-;  •I'T  in  I  untin!;.  .Naim-i)ush  is  partiiidarly  the  lumler's  god. 
a. 1(1  fnmi  him  Ins  best  skill  is  derived. 

11.  Ncen  n'buh-we-hah  he-na-ne-whaw,  aa-nr-buh«we-hah. 
Nren  n'buh-we-hah  mcen-da-nm-sHh.  na-ne-buh-we-hsli. 


li 


!'         ( 


'  07 


''^!k>'P 


/*»»-*■**" 


{.     t 


if 


■f^    i 


,i 


i'fi 


) ,..» 


uoo 


Ml  .-n    AM)   nil  I  K  V 


I  make  to  siuiul,  a  iiiun,  1  iiiuko  iiiiii  staiul. 

The  words  «Nnii-i'c-\vali  and  iiii't'ii-da-ino-sah,  mrati  licrn  llif 
male  or  rcinale  of  the  aniinais  hunted  ;  and  a>,  at  some  seasons, 
only  the  males  are  fat,  and  at  others  only  tin;  temales,  the  one 
line  or   lh«^  otiier    is    snnif   fn'st,   aecordin^r 


to    tl 


le  s«'asoii, 


Th. 

word  n'huh-we-hah   is   more   eomnionly  spoken,   |)articularly  li\ 
the  Mississippi  Indians,  n'po-we-ah. 


12.   Nc-ttli-WH  een-du-l)c-lo-na  ne-uh-how. 

Myself,  I  do  t,^(>t)d  lo  myself. 

It  is  eerlainiy  pcditic  I'or  the  medicine  men,  who  reeeive  ex- 
travagant fees  not  only  for  teacliinj'  their  s(m(fs,  luit  fur  the  me- 
dicines used  conjointly  with  them,  to  remind  their  employers  that 


nil  th 


u<  evpenditures  they  make  arc  not  unavailin^r- 


II 


er»' 


tl 


leii. 


i--  a  li(.nn<'  which  seems  to  lie  that  of  a  Icmale,  coxered  pinfii-ely 
with  the  clotiiini:  piirclia 'eil  Ironi  the  pr(ict'('(l-<  ol  the  medicint 
hunts;  over  the  heail  of  the  li^nre  are  blankets  and  cloth,  uiiil 
aiiKind  tiie  waisi  is  siisjiended  an  ample  irarnu-n',  lielonijinir  to  a 
uomnii. 

\',\.   \e-knun-naw  niM-m>-clie-liah  iie-kaiin-naw  . 

My  friend-.  I  will  l!\,  my  fritiul-. 

Prosperity,  as   arnoni:   other    nnii.   It  ad-   lo   insolence  ani!  tin 
ainise  of  powiT. 
I 


This  man,  who,  in  iina<rinati(m,  iias  been  sm 


cesslnl  in  h\<  piir<iiil-;.  whose  medicine  has  made  him  rn-h,  ami 
clothed  his  I'amilv.  now  proposes  to  turn  il-^  powiT  against  hi- 
fellows.     The  victim  of  his  malice  lies  on  the  (rround,  trannfixed 


w 


lui  (>norm(ui>  arroiv. 


ith 

14.   Na-wi-ahn,  na-wi-ah-na,  o-ho-o  wim 
pah-!)e-waw  iMim-me-kwi-a-nc 


A  mu 


ccasin   sii.iKc 


a  mociM»iii 


•nail  he-na-ne-wnw  we 


^kin  is  ni\  mediciiit 


bug;  let  any  man  i  oiiw  to  see  me  that  will. 

I(  aii\  man  is  p;aloiis  of  iii\  -iicct -.s  in  hmitiiiif,  l<  t  hiui  know 
that  a  moccasin  snake  skin  is  my  medicine  bat; ;  let  him  know 
that  he  cannot,  without  danu'er,  come  in  mv  wa\. 


'IjLMM 


MISU     AND    POETR\. 


[i61 


Mi  li;  10  ihf 
inc  seasons, 
lies,  tlie  Dill' 
•asoii.  TIk- 
iliculailv  \>) 


}  receive  ex- 
it till-  (lie  lilt  ■ 
iiploN  ers  lliat 
Hire,  then, 
red  |>riit'u-('l'' 
tlic  mrilifiiK 
■III  clotli,  anil 
eloiiLriiiLr  I"'  •' 


»l»'ii»f  ;iiiil  til' 
him  been  siu 
liiiii  riih.  ami 
IT  aiiaiii-*!  I"- 
iin!,  irai»nJiXf«l 

ia-iie-\va\v  \\<- 


iii\  met 


liriii' 


1, 1  iiiiu  kniiw 
(1   liim  kii'tu 


{.').  Ne-ali-\ve-iia,  iic-ali-Uf-na,  waw-biin-duiu-mo  a-zhe-naii- 
^wuk  iie-ah-\ve-na. 

Myfselt",  niyseir,  helioM  me,  and  see  that  I  look  like  inyscU". 

This  is  sonn'  jrreat  mrdiriiie  man,  probably  the  author  t)f  (lif 
~(injj,  wlio  shoMs  hiinseir  U>  the  people. 

MS.  ('he-be-^au-ze-nauiiK  >j\vil-)(»-i-ah-na  iiiaiin-dah-wccn  ah- 
lue-ffe  iieeii-M'a-nah  L'na-kwaik  ke-iiah  gw it-lo-i-ah-na. 

I  (Minie  (o  rhani;[e  the  ajipearanre  of  the  ground,  this  ground  ; 
I  niaki!  it  hiok  ditleriiit  in  earh  season. 

This  is  a  Manilo,  who,  mi  arcount  of  his  immensity  of  tail,  and 
.ilhcr  prcnliHrilies,  has  no  prototy|H>.      He  elaims  to  he  the  ruler 


<i\t'r   llH-  seasons. 


il( 


probal)ly  <iitehe-a-nah-ini-e-l)e-zhe\v. 


li^rtat  uniler-irround  wild  cat.) 

17.  Ka-«ha\v-buni-n»e-ia  he-ali  ne-haun-na  ehe-mo-ke-ah-nii 
lirah  ne-haiMi-na. 

You  may  see  me,  my  friends;  I  have  risen,  my  friends. 

This  is  the  Manito  of  the  ijrotind.  who  |)uls  only  his  In-iul  above 
ilii'  surface  to  speak  ;  but  in  this  limire  his  horns  are  omitted, 
j>rriiaps  by  nii-^iake. 

1*^.   Muk-ko-we-tali-wa  neen-dah-nees-sah  e-kwnh-e-tah-wn. 

Were  he  a  bear,  i  eould  kill  him,  were  he  a  lonsc. 

Thus  aided  by  the  Manito  of  the  seasons,  or  of  the  wealhi  i, 
ind  by  hnn  of  the  j^round.  as  is  expressed  by  the  two  priceilini.' 
li(.Mires,  the  hunter  says  he  eould  find  and  kill  whatever  was  a 
bear,  thouch  it  were  no  bit'^er  than  a  louse.  The  tigiire  is  thai 
i)f  a  bear,  with  a  louse  on  il. 

|U.   (Maiiiih  we-vo  ehe-niahii-diik   o-t:i-nuli-«  r-yo. 

\\\^  tongue,  a  bear,  his  ion|/iie. 

The  tongue,  like  the  heart  and  blood  in  the  other  8un|{,  U  now 
lit  h«>  kept  from  the  profane  tourli  nfa  woman  or  a  dog. 


I' 


' 


rv 


"'^5s^^CSt**^  •'•«^«   •<»«■■. 


3t5S 


MUSIC    AND    I'OETRY. 


UO.  Man-i-to  uli-wc-slic-nah-iiaio-kiiii-na  nian-i-to  wc-slic-nali- 
iia. 

A  spirit  is  what  I  use  ;  a  H])irif  do  tlioii  use. 

Tho  sjxaki'r,  in  this  iiistaiiro,  is  Na-na-bush,  who  gave  mankind 
an  arrow ;  that  is,  all  those  arms  which  give  man  (himinion  over 
the  brutes.  He  used  these  things  before  us,  and  we  must  use 
them  agreeably  to  his  instruction  and  example. 

Ul.  We-ah-hah  nuik-ko-we-e-tah  yah  nah-mah  kummig,  ain- 
dah-zheesh  she-no-gwain  niuh-ko-we-tah. 

Although  it  were  a  bear  concealed  under  the  ground,  I  could 
tirul  him. 

Thus  aided  by  the  Maniloag,  and  armed  with  the  weapons  ol" 
iNa-na-busb,  what  animal  shall  be  able  to  escape  from  the  htmler  ' 


li 


{' 


f 

t 


h  * 

r    * 

i 

fhm 


iJk 


fii 


i{i^? ' 


i  \ 


iilMtftiWiii   I  Ik   -^ 


Ml  .-IC  AND   IMtrilV. 


'Am 


ff. 


c-shc-nali- 

c  mankind 
Vinion  over 
•  must  \is«' 

mmig,  ain- 

jntl,  I  f""!^ 

weapons  ol 
the  hunior  ' 


MEDICINE  SON(;,    FOli    lllNTlNii,    AiNH  hOMETIMES 
FOR  MAKlNCi  I-OVK. 


Fio.  I.  a. 


3. 


Flu.  I.  Nccii-iiali-hali  ah-iu'-iin-do-irwain  {ja-no-zci  wain-je 
inan-i-to  Mlie-jrwain,  « c-lii-yali,  wr-lic-ya  1 

What  I  kiutw  not  niakrs  fra-no-zlif  (the  l(»ii<>  moon)  Maiiito. 

One  of  the  winter  moons,  commonly  called  (litclic-manilo-n- 
gce-zis,  (ihc  (Iroal  Spirit's  moon,)  which  corresponds  to  luir 
month  Januar),  is  con>i(l(rcd  particularly  laMJurahlc  lor  limiting. 
Children  horn  in  (hat  month  arc  r«'ckoncd  lonQ;  lived. 

2.  H«'-ah  neen-irwi-o-ho  o-ho  man-i-to-wc-t«h-hah  j^ah-neen- 
nwi-o  we-i-ah-nah  wc-hc-a  ! 

My  painiinii,  that  makes  nn  a  Maiiito. 

One  ol  the  parlitular  kinds  ol  medicine  lo  he  used  uilli  tins 
>on^,  is  mixed  with  o-n\nn-un,  and  used  in  painting  the  face. 
The  IndninH  atlrihute  to  it  the  (^reatesi  cMicacy  in  givinij  imme- 
ilialf  siicceHs ;  bnl  many  of  ihcm  fear  to  use  it,  fmni  a  iirlief  tha' 
i!  will  have  an  injurious  cHect  on  them  atler  dcalh.  A  man  whc 
'iiis  uHcd  it  will,  ihey  say.  in  the  ccnmiry  to  which  we  j^o  aftei 
ilealh,  have  no  tlosh  upon  those  parts  of  his  '^nrv  where  the  inedi- 
line  has  touched.  It  is  rare  to  ohMTve,  anion^  the  Indians,  any 
id«UH  which  w«»dd  lead  t<»  (he  helief,  that  they  look  upon  a  future 
^late  p.s  one  <>f  rein'.uHMii.  The  irnnx cnl  are  those  who  fail  to 
each  (he  \.ilaL'i>  of  the  dtad;  and  l)u-  unrortiii::ile  art  thosi 
who,  when  ihi  V  ariiv«  theri.  are  disiiii!>ui>lied  from  others,  l)V 
hring  coiik|x  lied  (<<  dHiti-e  on  (heir  h«*Hs.  \s  might  be  expected 
("mm  n  pe-ipir  in  su«  h  profound  ijfnoran<'« .  i(  »*  not  to  tho^e  ac- 

r 


^ 


I''     .7:  i    ■ 


'.>•  •  ' 


m . 


fl-,> 


1^  ( 


>.  ^i 


370 


MUSIC    AND    POETRY. 


tioas  which  are  ptruicious  lo  huppinoss,  and  the  true  well  bring 
of  the  socicly.  <»r  the  iiulividiial  here,  that  the  idea  of  future 
punisliniriil  is  attaehed. 

3.  [The  words  Indoiiging  to  this  figure  arc  lost.  He  sneins  tu 
be  beating  the  Me-tig-waw-kcek,  or  mtlai  drum,  and  is  doubtlcs^i 
boasting  of  his  great  medicine.] 

4.  Yah-hah-ween-gah  wc-ah-hali  ye-hi-ali-yah  we-hc-a?  yali- 
hah  o-ge-mah-waw  goan-dum-nio-nah  o-ge-mah-waw. 

I  am  able  to  make  a  chief  swallow  an  arrow. 

This  has  allusion  to  the  thrusting  of  arrow.s,  and  similar  in- 
struments, into  the  stomacli,  by  the  medicine  men.  The  word-< 
are  put,  perhaps,  into  the  mouth  of  the  medicine.  Tricks  of 
this  kind  arc  often  exhibited  in  the  Metai,  as  well  as  several 
juiserable  sleiglit  of  hand  tricks,  which  all  the  initiated,  at  least, 
seem  w  illing  to  look  upon  as  miracles.  A  common  performance 
is  that  of  suffering  one's  self  to  be  shot  at  with  a  marked  bullet, 
which  had  previously  been  shown  to  all  the  persons  sitting  in 
the  lodge.  The  medicine  man  stands  at  one  end  of  the  lodge, 
with  a  small  wooden  bowl  in  his  hand,  and  his  companion,  aftei 
having  exhibited  the  bullet,  loads  the  gun  in  the  sight  of  all  pre- 
sent; then  dancing  and  singing  backwards  and  forwards,  dis- 
charges the  piece,  apparently  at  ilie  head,  l>nt  taking  particular 
care  not  to  hit  him.  As  soon  as  the  smoke  is  disperso.d,  the  om 
who  had  stood  to  receive  the  fire  is  seen  with  a  ball  in  his  dish, 
marked  accurately  like  the  one  which  had  been  put  in  the  gun. 
With  this  he  dances,  exulting  and  shouting,  three  or  four  lime-^ 
.nround  the  lodge.  Other  tricks  are  played  with  little  pup|)ets  ot 
wood  and  feathers  moved  by  strings,  bvit  kept  concealed  in  sacks. 
or  otherwise.  Many  of  these  things,  too  childish  and  trifling  to 
be  minutely  described,  are  the  standing  wonders  of  the  boastei. 
i'cremonies  of  the  IVIetai,  or  grand  medicine,  the  |>rincipal  reli 
gious  leremony  of  the  Indians. 


H I 


i^i 


<  ' 


hi. 


I    '■ 


well  being 
a  of  luturo 

le  scrms  In 
is  doubtless 

.-hc-a^  yah- 


I  similar  in- 
Thc  \vonl-< 

Tricks  of 

II  as  several 
alcil,  al  least. 
1  ncrforinanci* 
narked  bullet, 
ons  sitting  i» 

of  the  lodge, 
mpanion,  aft(  i 
ight  of  all  pre- 
forwards,  dis- 
hig  particulav 
lerso.d,  tl\e  oii« 
,)all  i»  I'i^  il''"''- 
)ut  in  ll»'  g""- 
or  four  time-^ 

tile  puppt^lJ^  <»' 

oealed  in  sacks. 

and  tritling  to 

of  the  boast»'i. 

principal  reli 


5. 


(5.  T.  H. 


:ni 


u. 


5.  Wuh-wc-kwa-be-yah  neen-na  neen-go-ehe  niecn-da-mo-sali 
iiei-un  dun-nub  bc-ah-neen-na. 

I  cover  over  myself,  sitting  down  in  a  secret  plare  with  a 
woman. 

*).  Hujr-ge-ta  a-a-ho  ke-ta-nee-na  kc-ta-nee-na. 

I  speak  of  your  heart;  [to  a  moose.] 

7.  Do-je-teem  mam-mo-e-yahn  ween-e-sc  inam-mo-e-yahii  o- 
iiah-ge-chc  mam-mo-e-yahn. 

Your  tripe,  1  lake  your  melt,  I  take  ;  your  straifrlil  jrut  I  take. 

These  are  the  choire  parts  of  a  moose  ;  the  attitude  of  the 
hunter  is  expressive  of  his  exultation;  il  is  the  o-nah-ge-ohe 
which  he  holds  in  liis  liands.  It  is  this  part  of  which  those  deli- 
lious  sausages,  railed  fiiintvr\'>  puddiiti^s,  are  made. 

N.  Neen-dai-yuli  gutrhe-hah  hi-e-kwa-waw-hali,  neen-noan- 
dali-waw  sah-wecn  n-ye-ke-tot»!  whe-i-ah-hnh  whe-hc-ya ! 

I  can  make  her  ashamed,  because  I  hear  wJiat  she  says  of  me. 

H.  \V;ius-snh  wa-kum-me-ga  na-bah-gwaim,  wlie-ah  whe-he-a 
\  ag-ifali-mir\i;-^''o  na-hah-gwa. 

Thoujrh  you  slept  very  Far  oil',  though  you  slept  on  the  otliei 
"iile. 

lie  boasts  of  his  success  with  wonuMi.  Ff  his  mistress  slept 
ever  so  far  off,  even  across  a  lake,  his  arm  is  lonij  enough  to 
reach  her.  and  she  will  hear  his  voice. 


,?■ 


....* 


0  hi/ 


1' 


i   t 


!i« 


I 

* 


3 


*  < 


i  * 


^V 


vn- 


1     i 


i 


arj 


i(t. 


Ml  sit      .\M>     I'til.  IU\. 

II.  Ivl. 


13. 


TfM 
A  ft 


10.  \e»'ii-n;ih-inah  nrni-iiali-jc-lii-ha  zwaw-Jifa,  uoen-nah-inah 
iiMu-t(»  waw-  v\  lia-io.ir;i  nMo-io  waw-wa-wc-hia-ali,  yu-wo-hc-a  ! 

I  draw  yoiir  lu'ait  up,  llial  is  what  1  do  to  you. 

It  is  intoiuU'd  luTe  to  represent  a  moose  at  a  distance ;  and  the 
Ims  from  liis  heart  to  the  lod<ie  of  tlie  Indian,  indicates  that  \u- 
draws  it,  dc  !)\  nieans  f>('  llic  power  ol  his  medicine  controls  the 
inclination  of  the  animal,  and  hrinos  him  m  a  silnation  where  he 
can  easily  he  found. 

11.  l\e-we-nah  neezh-waii  nien-nah  hi-ah-wa-sah  fa-we^-sie,| 
tu'-wa  ner/h-wali  neen-nah. 

I  can  kill  any  animal,  1  can  kill. 

J  lis  lar^je  knife  seems  intended  to  represent  his  confidence  ol 
success,  and  the  animal  is  hefore  him  which  he  cannot  only  kill, 
but  cut  up. 

12.  n.ji'e-bi-y«hn  nian-i-to,  yen-wah-nc-he-e-nah,  yeo-wah-lia 
o-jce-bi-yahn  man-i-to,  whe-lu'-ya  I 

A  dead  man's  skin  is  Manito. 

Sometimes  they  use  sacks  of  human  skin  to  contain  their  me- 
dicines, and  they  fancy  that  something  is  thus  added  to  their  ef- 
ficacy. 

13.  Me-nec-sing,  a-he-tjwaln  necn-jTe-wun-naijh  chc-hah-ga-to- 
ga  me-nee-sing'  a-be-u\vain,  whe-he-ya  ! 

Were  she  on  a  distant  island,  I  can  make  her  crazy  to  swim 
over,  were  she  on  a  distant  island. 

Here  he  ajfain  lioasts  of  the  power  of  iiis  medicine  over  the  in- 
elinati(ms  of  females.  Tins  soiiir  seems  to  present  a  fair  view  of 
the  state  of  the  /i(is:-<ioii  of  /nrr  amonij  the  ()jil)b^•^vavs. 


13. 


— ini.i. 


m  «<n.'  AM)  I'OKrnv. 


:nx 


loen-nah-mah 
•a-wo-hc-a ! 

ance  ;  and  lli( 
icatos   that  lif 
i(>  rontrolr*  lln' 
ilion  wluTO  1m 


s  ronfiiloncc  ol 
iinntit  only  kill, 

all,  vro-wah-liii 


intain  their  mv- 
Ulcd  to  their  of- 

}i  rhc-hah-ga-to- 

M-  crazy  to  swim 

IriiH'  ovrr  the  i»- 
nt  a  fair  view  "I 
IcwaV!*. 


SONG  OF  \  MEDICINK  MAN,  AT  THR  GIVING  OF 
MEDICINE  TO  A  SICK    PERSON. 


Fio.  1. 


3. 


Kit:.  I.  Norn-gaw-gaw  wain-e-nir-ko  o-h  •  i-ah  .t-ni^ii-a-iiaii- 
i. 

TV  soinr  person  lias  injurcil  yoiw  lifo. 

Viiionsx  the  Indians,  when  a  dortor  is  railed  lor  the  sick,  it  is 
nsiial  In  |)rc"sont  Mini,  on  his  entering  the  lodire  of  liis  patient,  a 
kettle  (»r  the  best  food  they  arc  able  to  procure ;  and  it  is  |)i(»ba- 
ble  he  commonly  connnences  his  treatment,  as  in  this  instance, 
by  assurinii  his  patient  that  he  is  siidering  from  the  malice  of 
some  enemy,  who  has  slint  nudicinc  at  him,  or  practised  upon 
his  me-ziri-ne-nrrn.s',  to  make  him  a  victim  of  disease.  Com- 
plaints of  whatever  kind,  are  commonly  among  them,  if  not  al- 
ways, attributed  to  had  mi'dicinc,  uiuler  which  comprehensive 
term  they  include  every  thing,  except  open  violence,  which  can 
be  the  consequence  of  human  malice  and  envy.  The  medicine 
man  will  generally  go  much  farther  than  to  tell  his  patient  that 
he  is  under  the  inthience  of  llie  incantations  of  somebody  ;  he 
will  name  some  person,  either  his  own  or  his  patient's  enemy, 
as  be  nuiy  think  most  for  his  interest.  This  point  is  fully  illus- 
trated in  the  history  of  Ais-kaw-l)a-wis,  in  the  preceding  narra- 
tive. The  figure  has  a  little  sack  of  nu'dicine,  ami  his  s(Uig  is 
represented  by  the  two  lities  coining  out  of  his  moutli. 

'2.  nin-nah  neen-ne-kami,   ne-mali-tah-Iio-ne-!'(t-k;i.      [Twice.] 

Behold  me,  my  friends,  I  distribute. 

He  directs  his  Me-/Iiin-no-way,  or  aiteiulaiil,  to  distribute  to 
bis   friends,   and   whatever   persons  mav  have  assembled  in  the 


if 


1    i 


9!n 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


«■  1^    12.2 
1^ 


I.I 


tb 


a 


m  ill  1.4 


2.0 


1.8 


1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 
Corporation 


/. 


V 


■^ 
^V. 


33  WIST  MAIN  STRICT 

WIBSTIR.N.Y    14580 

(71«)  173-4503 


o^ 


If 


:m 


fj .?.« 


'i 


lu   '/  ■  ■ 


u 


.  I'll 


If  l''l     '^ 


374 


Ml'SIC    AND    rOElRV. 


lotlgp  on  this  occasion,  the  kettle  which  he  holds  in  his  hand,  and 
which  is  a  part  of  his  fee. 

3.  Hah-we-yah  be-zin-duh-wug-ga  ha-be-zin-duh-wug-ga  neej- 
a-nish-a-nau-ba  nin-gat-tum-me-ga. 

There  is  talking,  there  is  talking,  but  I  will  eat  my  people. 
Many  diseases  the  Indians  suppose  to  exist  within   the  body, 
in  form  of  a  worm,  or  something  similar,  and  it  is  a  being  of  thi; 
kind  who  now  speaks  from  the  stomach  of  the  sick  person.     lie 
says,  "  I  hear  your  threatening  and  confident  words  ;  but  it  is  not 
in  your  power   to  displace  me.     I  will  devour  my  own,  or  those 
people  that  belong  to  me."     The  medicines  which  this  song  is 
intended  to  accompany,  are  often  given  in  cases  of  a  malady,  to 
which  white  men  are  rarely  subject.     It  commences  by  a  swelling 
of  a  toe,  or  on  some  part  of  the  foot,  sometimes  of  the  knee,  and 
this  at  length   comes  to   suppuration.     An  indolent  and   tumid 
ulcer  gradually  takes  possession  of  the  whole  foot,  extending  to 
the  ancle  and  leg,  and  life  at  length  yields  to  it,   though  usually 
after  many  years.     Two  distinguished  men  of  the  Sioux,  namely, 
the  son  of  the  Red  Wing,  of  the  village  at  Lake  Pepin,  and  Tah- 
tunk-ah-nah-zhe,  a  chief  from  the  plains,  were  suffering  with  this 
complaint  in  IS'25.     The  latter,  who  had  lately  been  attacked, 
found  some  benefit  from  the  application,  in  various  forms,  of  th<' 
Tiitro-murialic  acid.     The  Indians  look  upon  the  complaint  as  in- 
curable, except  by  the  extirpation  of  the  diseased  bone  ;  and  the 
author  of  the  foregoing  narrative  has   know  one  successful   in- 
stance of  this  treatment.     The  Indian  himself  amputated  the  bone 
both  above  and  below  th(!  knee  junt,  preserving  the  muscles  of 
the  leg.     He  survived  and   recovered,  but  his  leg  was  of  course 
useless.     [At  the  bar  they  begin  to  dance. j 

4.  Ilah-go-way  ke-new-wug-ga  ki-ah-ga  ga-to-che-ga  ki-ah-go 
ga-to-che-ga. 

This  is  the  gray  eagle  talking;  he  will  talk. 
Here  the  doctor  speaks  in  his  own  person.     He  conjpares  him- 
Hclf  to  the  gray  eagle,  whom  the  Ojibbeways  consider  undisputed 
sovereign  among  the  birds. 


(      "i 


^ 


\        \ 


WtM   Tit,  i 


his  hand,  iu\d 

-wug-ga  neej- 

y  people- 
hin  the  body, 
a  being  of  lbi-~ 
k  person.     Up 
5 ;  but  it  is  not 

own,  or  those 
:h  this  song  i>; 
)f  a  malady,  to 
es  by  a  swelling 
if  the  knee,  and 
lent  and  tumid 
ot,  extending  to 

though  usualh 
;  Sioux,  namely, 
Pepin,  and  Tah- 
itTering  with  this 
y  been  attacked, 
nis  forms,  of  th»' 

complaint  as  in- 

d  hone  ;  and  the 
,,(>  successful  iu- 

putated  the  bone 
the  muscles  of 

tjT  was  of  course 

)-rhe-ga  ki-ah-go 


MUSIC    AND    POETRY. 
6. 


375 


7. 


ga. 


5.  This  figure  represents  the  sun,  but  the  song  is  lost. 
0.  Ka-moke-yah-hah  ka-moke-yah  waw-bs-gaw-gaw-ge  waw- 
). 

Come  ye  up,  come  ye  up,  white  crows. 
7.  Ka-kaik  koi-ah-na  bub-bah  mis-sa-wuh. 
Mv  henhaw  k's  skin  will  lly  about. 


compares 


him- 


lis 


ider  undisputed 


V     A 


'■dm-^^,"mmJi>^. 


i    ■' 
I 


Kr  /i-/i?i 


/ 


m 


i- 


1 

'         'J 

f'* 

\ 

:  I'  • 

i      ■* 

4 

f 

'     t 

i 

"t 

1; 

376 


MUSIC   AND   POETRY. 


SONG  OF  CHI-AH-BA,  A  CELEBRATED  OJIBBEWAY 
MEDICINE  MAN,  AT  THE  ADMINISTRATION  OF 
HIS  REMEDIES. 

Fig.  1.  3.  3  4.  5. 


Fio.  1.  Ah  way-ah  noan-dah-wug-ga  muk-kud-da  ge-na-beek 
goo-wc-ah-wc-aun  ne-kaiin. 

Some  one,  I  hear  him ;  but  I  make  myself  black  snake,  my 
friend. 

The  medicine  man  speaks  in  his  own  person.  He  hears  some 
one  ;  he  knows  who  it  is  that  has  used  bad  medicine  to  break  his 
patient's  life ;  but  he  brings,  to  oppose  it,  the  power  and  crafti- 
ness of  the  black  snake. 

3.  Ain-dun  wa-we-tum-maun  o-gc-tah-kum-maig  ke-he-a. 

Ain-dun  wa-we-tum-maun,  t&c. 

I  myself  speak,  standing  here  on  the  ground. 

He  takes  a  bold  and  open  stand  against  his  enemies,  and  those 
of  his  employer. 

3.  Wa-go-nain-wa-we-ow  we-he-naun  J  0-gc-na-beek-o-ga 
wa-we-yah  we-he-nah. 

What  is  this  I  put  in  your  body?  Snake  skins  I  put  in  your 
body. 

The  two  first  verses  are  suntj  Oii  entering  the  lodge,  and  before 
he  commences  giving  his  mrdicuio.  The  tinrd  accompanies 
the  exhibition  of  the  first  dose,  which  consists  either  of  eight 
snake  skins  lied  together,  and  the  foremost  having  a  small  frog 
fastened  t.  the  head  of  it,  as  in  the  figure,  or  of  eight  fathoms  of 
a  small  or  thong  of  leather,  and  eight  wild  cat's  claws  fast- 


J 


"*-«  -  .r  wjiwy  ?■'' "  \' 


>'LSli.     AM,    I'uKiiii. 


377 


emies,  and  those 
»-gc-ua-beck-o-ga 


ins  I  put  in  your 


''"''d  at  equal  intervals.  Difficnh  .  „ 
-ription  may  appear  to  u«,  and  IsTt  U  nr"'"'"^  "'^  ^'>-  ?'- 
^■-ves  and  swallows  it,  all  the  ti^e  .  ?"  "'  ^'^^  P«'-"t  - 
f!^f  by  singin,  the  above  so  Ta'd  "'  "''^  '''^  ^-'- 

^-  fi;.-r,  or  a  little  water,  in  "f;  ^l:?^^'"^"^  -'^i"^  with 
--edy     After  this  has  ren  aino    a  S  '"" ,°'  '"^  '"""""'•^We 
;omaeh,  according  to  the  inclinatio         7,'"  ^T^'  ^'"^  '"  ^^o 
'0  he  wuhdrawn  ;  and  it  is  i„  t,.j     ""'   ^"^  ""'^^'^^  man,  it  is 
'f'e  cat's  claw,  are  used  tha  thl     T      ''"'  P^'-*'<^"'arIy  «•!,,„ 
;  iating  torture.     The  end  whi  h  JsTT'  "''"^  ^'^  "•-'--- 
"and  of  son,e  of  the  attend     t  'a  ^  th    T"  "^  '^  P"*  '"*«  ^^^^ 
■;bout  the  lodge,  as  the  ren^aintTs,  Lf  ^^  '"'  '^'"^  -^''  '' 
'he  medicine  man  sin^s  the  folln      ^  "^  ^'^"'^  ''«'^'<-    Then 

general.  »'  *^«  ^«"«^v>ng,  ,vhile  the  dance  becomes 

Snakes  fare]  my  friends.  ^' 


«. 


J5-  A-nah-mo  be-zhe  ne-kau-naw. 

l^;^r'';'' "••'■' -'-is  my  friend. 
*'  the  fourth  vprsn   h^      i  ■,  •     . 

from  these  he  derives  his  p  ^'^  IT;'^'"""'  ""'  ''"''«'  -'^ 
'•  nm,  founded  on  a  knowlele  of  the  ,  '".J"^'  """'  '««'  ^is 
-:^  of  -^n-ent  importance,  tp';;;;';"'^  ""*  '^^  ->n«"ier- 
-•'h  verses,  that  the  snakes  S^^  ''''  '"  "''"  '^"'^  »"'» 
--"g  '.is  h.  lp..,-s  an.I  fnend  Thf  ■'"'""  "'"^  -'  «- 
"<■"  as   the  activity  of  the  M'  '"">'  ""'  ''""'"ng,  as 

""" -»""::::it\^::r;i:r- 

m  •  -'^'^  ""'  i')rm  of 


',1 


;  / 


M 


f ' 


378 


MISIC    ANP    FOETRY. 


animals  of  this  family  to  those  imaginary  brings  whose  attributes 
bear,  in  their  opinion,  some  resemblance  to  the  qualities  of  these 
animals.  Most  of  them  have  heard  of  the  lion,  the  largest  of 
the  cats  known  to  white  men,  and  all  have  heard  of  the  devil ; 
they  consider  them  the  same.  The  wild  cat  here  figured  has 
horns,  and  his  residence  is  under  the  ground ;  but  he  has  a  mas- 
ter, Gitche-a-nah-mi-e-be-zhew,  (the  great  under-ground  "wild  cat,) 
who  is,  as  some  think,  Matche-Manito  himself,  their  evil  spirit, 
or  devil.  Of  this  last  they  speak  but  rarely.  Gitche-a-nah-mi-c 
is  a  compound  epithet,  and  in  this  application  can  scarce  fail  to 
remind  the  Greek  scholar  of  many  similarly  compounded  words 
in  that  language.  The  English  reader  will  perceive  the  resem- 
blance in  the  following  "  most  heroic"  line,  preserved  by  Cow- 
per : — 

'•  To  whom  replied  the  Devil  yard-long-tailed." 

There  was  never  any  thing  more  truly  Grecian,  says  the  learned 
translator  of  the  Iliad,  than  this  triple  epithet. 


f;'F 


■'.  ( 


e  attributes 
ies  of  these 
c  largest  of 
•  the  devil; 
figured  has 
B  has  a  mas- 
nd^vild  cat,) 
ir  evil  spirit, 
je-a-nah-mi-e 
scarce  fail  to 
,imded  words 
,e  the  resem- 
rved  by  Cow- 


lyi 


s  the  learned 


ML'SIC  ANU  POKTP.Y, 


37» 


WAR  MEDICINE  SONG, 
Fig.  1.  2.  3.  4. 


Fig.  1.  Che-be-moke  sa-aun. 

I  am  rising. 

This  figure  represents  the  rising  sun,  and  intimates  to  the  war- 
rior the  vigilance  and  activity  required  in  the  business  on  which 
he  goes. 

3.  Ma-mo-yah-na  ge-zhik  ma-mo-yah-na. 

Ma-mo-yah-na  ah-ke  ma-mo-yah-na. 

I  take  the  sky,  I  take. 

[  take  the  earth,  I  take. 

This  is  all  grasping  ambition ;  with  one  hand  he  seizes  the 
(!arth,  with  the  other  the  sky,  or  the  sun,  for  ge-zhik  means  cifhrr. 
He  thinks 

it  were  an  easy  leap 
To  pluck  bright  honour  from  the  pale  faced  moon ; 

but  this  effervescence  of  valour  is  apt  to  be  of  short  duration, 
showing  itself  more  in  words  than  in  deeds. 

3.  Ba-mo-sa-yah-na  kee-zhik-onk  ba-mo-sah-yah-na. 
I  walk  through  the  sky,  I  walk. 

This  figure  is  to  represent  the  moon,  and  may  be  designed  to 
intimate  to  the  warrior  that  his  business  is  principally  to  be  done 
in  ihe  night  time. 

4.  Waw-bun-oank  tuz-zhe-kwa*  nc-waw-ween  ne-go-ho-ga. 
The  eastern  woman  calls  me. 

This  is,  perhaps,  some  local  allusion,  or  it  may  have  been  ap- 

'  Waw-bnn-oank-tns-r-kwa. 


a       •( 


!l^ 


P    I 


-.»•»-•■.■  —  '••  ■ 


(  i 


«f 


f 

!  It  ' 


InUli 


,'?'  ! 


.f. 


f  ' 


ii- 


(.. 


/"  ■ 


3m 


M.V61C    A.VU    I'OEIRV. 


pendcd  tu  the  soiig  in  those  times  when  the  idea  ol'  taking  pri- 
soners of  white  women  may  have  been  a  spur  to  the  valour  and 
enterprise  of  the  Indian  warrior.  Admiration  of  the  beauty  of 
white  women,  on  the  part  of  the  Indians,  is  not  exclusively  con- 
lined  tu  tlie  narratives  of  romance  writers. 


o.  This  figure,  tlic  words  far  which  are  lost,  or  purposely 
withheld,  represents  a  lodge,  a  kettle,  and  a  boy,  who  is  a  pri- 
soner. The  lino  from  his  heart  to  the  kettle,  indicates  too  plainly 
ihe  meaning  of  the  song.  I  know  not  whether  any  still  doubt 
that  the  North  American  Indians  are  cannibals ;  if  so,  they  are 
only  those  who  have  taken  little  pains  to  be  correctly  informed. 
The  author  of  the  preceding  narrative  had  spent  the  best  years 
of  Ills  life  among  the  Ojibbeways  ;  a  woman  of  that  tribe  was,  as 
he  somewliere  says,  "  the  mother  of  his  children ;"  and  we  need 
not  wonder  that,  after  becoming  aware  of  the  strong  feeling  ol 
white  men  on  this  subject,  he  should  be  reluctant  in  speaking  of 
it.  Yet  he  makes  no  hesitation  in  saying,  that  the  Sioux  eat  their 
enemies,  and  he  once  admitted,  that  in  the  large  Ottawwaw  set- 
tlement of  Waw-gun-uk-ke-zie,  he  believed  there  were  few,  if 
any,  persons  living  in  the  late  war,  who  did  not,  at  some  time  or 
other,  eat  the  flesh  of  some  people  belonging  to  the  United  States. 
I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  disbelieve  the  assertions  of  the 
Indians,  and  those  who  know  them  best,  on  this  subject,  or  why 
we  sliould  expect  from  this  race  a  degree  of  refinement  and  hu- 
manity, which  we,  and  all  who  possess  it,  owe  to  a  state  of  ad- 
vanced civilization,  and  the  influence  of  the  christian  religion. 
We  doubt  not  that  our  pagan  forefathers,  in  the  wilds  of  Scot- 
land, Ireland,  or  Hungary,  ate  the  flesh,  and  particularly  the 
hearts,  of  their  enemies  slain  in  battle.  Why  should  we  not  be- 
lieve this  of  the  savages  of  our  own  continent  '. 


f 


'11        f 

1 
•  ) 


ffl 


t 


•.^t-'  Jk.  .<%  *f»--- 


^— -—■■-•  ■  '^ 


Mtsir  AND  POETRV 


;iNi 


ukiug  pvi- 
>  valour  and 
le  beauty  of 
usivelv  co»- 


or  puvposeU 
,  who  is  a  pri- 
ites  too  plainly 
any  still  doubt 
if  so,  they  are 
ectly  informed, 
t  the  best  years 
lat  tribe  was,  as 
;"  and  we  neeil 
irong  feeling  ol 
t  in  speaking  of 
Sioux  eat  their 
Ottawvaw  sci- 
re were  few,  it 
at  some  time  or 
Le  United  States, 
ssertions  of  the 
subject,  or  why 
inement  and  hii- 
a  state  of  a»l- 
hristian  religion, 
lie  wilds  of  Scot- 
partieidarly  thf. 
i\o\dd  we  not  bt- 


SONG  OF  THE  WARRIORS   ABOUT  TO  START  ON  A 

WAR   PARTY. 

1.  Ka-go  sali-ween  mow-we  me-zhe-kain  e-kwa-we-un-na  ne- 
boi-ah-na  mow-we  me-zhe-ka. 

Do  not  mourn,  my  women,  for  me,  who  am  about  to  die. 

2.  Hah-nie-ge-neen  a-na-nc-mo-e-yahn  a-bitehe  e-nin-neeng 
a-na-ne-mo-kwain  ah-me-ge-neen  a-na-ne-mo-e-yahn. 

If  any  man  thinks  himself  a  great  warrior,  I  think  myself  the 
name. 

[This  song  has  been  published,  and  illustrated,  by  Mr.  School- 
rraft.] 


*      :l! 


H 


'I 


'■'  ■    ■'-^']p-*.j^  ■*■  *=■" 


:}S2 


I.AXOl'ACKS    OK    THE 


CHAPTER   IV, 

LANGUAGES    OF   THE    NOKTH    AMERICAN    INDIANS. 

Of  a  subject  so  imperfectly  understood  as  that  now  before  us, 
little  can  be  said,  without  some  risk  of  falling  into  error.     It  is 
probable  that  the  threefold  division,   long  since  made  by  Mr. 
Heckewelder,  of  the  Indian  languages,  spoken  within  the  territo- 
ry of  the  United  States,  may  be  well  founded  ;  and  every  advance 
of  discovery  has  but  confirmed  the  views  respecting  the  charac- 
ter of  these  languages,  which  were  long  since  elicited  and  an- 
nounced in  the  correspondence  between  Heckewelder  and  Mr. 
Duponceau.     We  may  speak  with  confidence  in  relation  to  i>ll 
the  dialects  of  the  Algonkin,  or  Lenni  Lennape,  by  which  v.o 
mean  all  those  having  a  manifest  resemblance  to  the  Delaware,  or 
the  Ojibbeway,  not  only  in  all  the  principal  peculiarities  of  struc- 
ture and  idiom,  but  also  in  the  sound  of  words.     But  wlicnevcr 
assertions,  founded  on  an  acquaintance   with   the  languages  of 
this  family,  are,  without  careful  examination,  extended  to  other 
branches  of  the  American  race,  they  should  doubtless  be  received 
with  caution.     It  may  very  probably  be  true,  that  the  American 
languages,  from  one  extremity  of  the  continent  to  the  other,  have 
the  family  resemblance  which  is  so  manifest  in  the  ohysical  p(>- 
culiarities  of  the  race;  but   this  should  neither  be  5>  sumed  nor 
admitted  until  it  has  been  proved. 

That  etymolojry  has  been  of  some  use  in  historical  inquiries, 
no  one  will  doul  t;  but  the  evidence  it  aflbrds  is  commonly  falla- 
cious, and  where  it  elucidates  one  fact,  it  obscures  a  thousand. 
We  know,  says  Sir  William  Jones,  a  pofftcriori,  that  fitz  and 
hijo,  by  the  nature  of  two  several  dialects,  are  derived  fromjV- 
lius ;  that  nnclc  comes  from  avus,  and  stranger  from  extra ; 
that  jour  is  deducible,  through  the  Italian,  from  dies,  and  rossii^- 
vol  from  luscinia,  or  the  singer  in  groves;  that  scinro  ecurcuil, 
and  squirrel,  are  compounded  of  two  Greek  words,  descriptive 
of  tlie   animal  ;  wliich  etvmoI(»'ries.  thouffh   thev  could  not  have 


NORTH    AMF.KIfAN    INDIANS. 


383 


been  demonstrated  a  priori,  might  serve  to  confirm,  if  any  such 
confirmation  were  nt  'jssary,  the  proofs  of  a  connexion  between 
the  members  of  one  great  empiic. 

Philologists,  on  the  ground  sohdy  of  etymoh)gy,  or  rather  of 
similaritj'  and  dissimilarity  of  sound,  assign  to  the  limited  territo- 
ry of  the  United  States,  many  different  languages ;  and  if  they  are 
content  to  assign  these  different  languages,  as  they  are  pleased  to 
call  them,  a  common  origin,  and  that  at  no  very  remote  period, 
it  is  matter  of  indifference  how  many  stocks  they  enumerate. 
But  if  they  would  claim  for  each  stock  a  different  origin,  the  so- 
ber inquirer  will  certainly  receive  their  opinions  with  caution. 

It  has  been  stated,  that  the  languages  of  North  America  are  not 
only  etymologically  different  from  those  of  Europe  and  Asia,  but 
that  their  grammaticpl  forms  arc  also  essentially  unlike.  Either 
to  support  or  to  controvert  this  assertion,  would  require  a  more 
extensive  acquaintance  both  with  American  and  European  lan- 
guages, than  it  falls  to  the  lot  of  many  to  possess.  We  may  re- 
mark, however,  that  the  synthetic,  ox  agglutinated  structure,  is  met 
with  in  many  other  languages.  Riggajuhsamat^ haroa,  according 
to  GovKiiDHAN  Caul,  is  a  compound  word  in  the  Sanscrit,  made 
\\p  oi  Rich,  yajvsh,  saman;  and  AVharvan,  Gauripitiiriswarcn- 
draciranaihpiishyat-sitimvQgireh,  is  a  word  in  the  same  lan- 
guage, which  may  challenge  comparison  with  any  of  the  long  and 
unutterable  compounds  in  the  Indian  tongues  ;  and  at  page  361, 
Vol.  I.  of  the  Asiatic  Researches-,  we  have  ihe  translation  of  a 
word  which  reaches  one  hundred  and  fifty-two  syllables.  Some 
of  the  compound  words  in  the  Greek  and  Latin,  as  well  as  in  the 
English,  seem  to  be  formed  in  a  manner  precisely  analogous  to 
corresponding  words  in  the  American  dialects.  Resemblances 
and  disagreements  of  this  kind,  as  well  as  those  purely  etymologi- 
cal, doubtless  may  be  traced  between  all  languages.  Awight,  the 
Saxon  word  equivalent  to  Aliquid,  has  certainly  an  etymological 
resemblance  to  vl/(W!rto,  the  same  word  in  theMenomonie  dialect; 
but  it  will  not  be  inferred  from  this,  or  many  similar  instances, 
that  the  Menomonies  are  of  Saxon  origin.  When  we  read  the 
conjectures  of  the  most  learned  and  sagacious  etymologists,  that 
not  only  qualis  and  talis,  but  vyiXiKOi,  and  rn^iog,  have  been 
supposed  to  come  from  the  Moeso-Gothic  leiks,  and  immc- 
iliately  from  guhdciks  and  thnlik.  whence  came  also  the  Anglo- 


It 


r 


If  • 


t ' 


'4  ^-  i  i 


« 


•i 


n 


;{»! 


l.ANGUAOKS    OF    TIIK 


Siixon  Ihylic,  lie,  like.  Wc  sliall  scarce  wisii  to  base  upon  such 
:i  t'ouniiation  our  opinions  concerninj?  the  early  history,  or  the 
subscipient  migrations  of  nations.  It  is  admitted  that  many  o( 
the  American  languages  are  similar  in  construction  and  general 
iiiitline,  and  when  we  see  how  wide  and  devious  have  been  the 
wanderings  of  the  roots,  even  in  written  languages,  we  shall  cease 
to  expect  uniformity  of  sound,  or  similar  etymology  in  the  va- 
rious members  of  a  race  exposed  to  numberless  and  diversified 
influences  in  the  widely  separated  parts  of  our  vast  continent. 

Of  two  great  families  of  Asiatic  languages,  or  dialects,  one 
abounds  in  polysyllabic  and  compound  words,  and  inflected  verbs, 
like  the  more  commonly  known  American  tongues.  This  family 
includes  the  Persian,  Sanscrit,  and  many  others.  The  second, 
louse  the  language  of  the  learned  President  of  the  Asiatic  Socie- 
ty, abhors  the  composition  of  words,  and  also  the  inflection  of 
verbs.  To  the  latter  class  belong  the  Hebrew,  the  Arabic,  and 
some  others  ;  and  betAveen  these  and  our  dialects  strong  resem- 
blances have  been  pointed  out,  or  may  be  easily  discovered 
From  the  Hebrew,  or  some  of  its  kindred  idioms,  from  the  San- 
scrit, or  from  the  Tartar  stock,  it  is  probable  the  American  lan- 
guages must  originally  have  been  derived.  But  when  we  have 
good  reason  to  believe  that  a  rtulp  anil  wholly  iHiterate  people, 
removed  from  a  low  and  fertile,  to  a  cold  and  moimtainous  coun- 
try, will,  in  the  course  of  a  few  centuries,  entirely  change  their 
language,  why  should  we  hope  to  be  able  to  trace  the  dialects  of 
our  Indians  satisfactorily  to  their  parent  stock  ? 

In  a  great  measure,  if  not  equally  vague,  must  be  all  conjec- 
tures based  on  mythological  opinions  and  traditionary  custom^. 
Wo  believe  that  those  who  have  been  extensively  acquainted 
with  our  Indians,  an.i  have  witnessod  the  variety  of  forms  and 
dresses  in  which  the  same  tradition  appears,  when  related  in  dif- 
ferent dialects,  will  place  little  reliance  on  opinions  concerning 
remote  history,  de.luced  from  such  traditions. 

One  species  of  relicks,  found  westward  of  the  Mississippi,  and 
jierhaps  elsewhere,  may  be  thought  to  afllird  more  conclusive  evi- 
dence than  all  derived  from  language  and  customs,  that  the  race  of 
Ham  have,  for  immemorial  ages,  inhabited  our  country.  I  allude 
to  those  rocks  bearing  very  distinct  and  deeply  indented  figures, 
resembling  the  impressions  of  human  feet.     That  these  nre  works 


h 


s  • 


Vvv 


. ' 


wf^ 


-.^- — 


>UK  1  II    AM  II:  U    \S    IN  \n  \^s. 


;{«.') 


ue  upua  such 
itory,  or  the 
that  many  of 
1  and  general 
lave  been  the 
ve  ishall  cease 
igy  in  the  va- 
nd  diversified 
t  continent, 
dialects,  one 
tiflected  verbs. 
This  famiU 
The  second. 
Asiatic  Socio- 
e  inflection  of 
le  Arabic,  and 
strong  rescni- 
ily  discovered 
from  the  San- 
American  lan- 
when  we  have 
literate  people, 
intainous  coiin- 
y  change  their 
the  dialects  of 

be  all  conjcr- 

^nary  custom's. 

jly  acquainted 

of  forms  and 

related  in  dif- 

)ns  concerning 

[ississippi,  and 
Iconclusive  evi- 
Itliat  the  race  of 

'.try.  I  allude 
jdented  figures. 

lese  "WP  M'orks 


"i  iiri,  is  iini|Uestioriabl<'.  and  bein^  ftjuiul  in  iiiuuiitaijiuu-i  ,iml 
scarce  accessible  parts  of  the  tountrv,  reniolo  from  any  of  cbt? 
present  scats  of  population,  or  routes  nf  communication,  (hey  af- 
I'ord,  by  their  aspect  of  inuiouhted  anticpiily,  conclusive  evidence, 
that  in  ages  long  sinct;  cla|)sed,  regions  now  desolate  were 
tenanted,  and  that  a  wandering  and  liutiter-population,  has  suc- 
ceeded to  one  whose  habits  of  settled  industry  enabled  them  to 
leave  such  durable  monuments.  I  am  satisfied  that  a  person,  in 
any  measure  familiar  with  the  valuable  records  of  the  Asiatic 
Society,  cannot  visit  a  locality  of  these  ancient  relicks,  without 
being  reminded  of  a  passage  in  the  Purancs,  where  King  Sra- 
rana  is  described  *'  on  the  White  Mountains,  meditating  on  the 
traces  of  the  Divine  foot.''''  We  are  assured,  by  credible  travel- 
lers, that  this  language  is  not  understood  figuratively,  but  that 
the  people  of  the  east  boast  of  stones  in  their  country,  on  which 
Jbotsteps  are  discernible,  which  they  assert  are  those  of  Vishnu. 
What  is  more  probable,  on  the  supposition  that  a  branch  of  tlii>i 
race  early  found  tiieir  way  to  America,  than  that  crafty  priests,  r)i- 
jiersons  still  possessing  some  of  the  arts  of  the  east,  should  have 
engraved  these  figures  from  tlie  same  motives  that  have  supplied 
similar  memorials  for  the  worshippers  of  Vishnu  and  Satyavrata  ? 
But  though  we  cannot  reasonably  hope  to  derive  tVom  the  stu(i y 
of  the  American  languages  and  dialects,  any  very  important  as- 
sistance to  aid  iiupiiries  into  the  remote  history  and  coini^exions 
of  the  various  tribes  who  speak  them,  yet  tliere  is  one  view  in 
which  these  languages  will  always  excite  a  degree  of  interest. 
In  them  we  have  an  authentic  record  of  a  portion  of  the  history 
f»f  the  human  mind.  To  the  inquirer  of  any  age,  or  any  nation, 
who  would  enlarge  his  acquaintance  with  the  powers  and  proper- 
ties, the  capabilities  and  the  propensities  of  the  minds  of  men,  this 
field  can  never  be  entirely  uninviting.  Hinvan  language,  it  is 
j)robable,  must  ever  vary  with  the  degree  of  refinement,  the 
various  revolutions  in  the  manner  of  thinking,  and  the  endless 
variations  of  external  inrtuence,  to  which,  in  progress  of  time,  they 
must  be  exposed.  It  is  Avell  known  to  every  one  conversant  with 
die  subject  of  languages  generally,  thai,  viewed  summarily  and 
superficially,  langiuige  presents  a  great,  not  to  say  an  infinite 
number  of  families  and  dialects.  But  the  Mosaic  account  of 
creation,  as  well  as  the  ronclusions  of  the  more  sane  of  the  phv- 

49 


'' 


If 


fM^- 


.■n 


S?';,*f*,«f*i^..--SS*«IM*u.-  ..L—    --—. 


\M^ 


l.ANOlACit!"  Ol     I  HE 


'  •  .  I 


''Wik 


f' 


^/ 


'n* 


•i 


siologists  anil  natural  historians,  assure  us  that  all  mankind  are 
ilcscemleil  from  a  singlr-  pair,  who  could  consequently  have 
spoken  but  one  language.  It  is  by  many  supposed  that  some  of 
the  existing  dialects  spoken  as  mothvT  tongues  at  the  present  day, 
must  have  been  in  being  in  the  ages  iminedialely  succeeding  the 
general  deluge.  At  the  time  of  this  great  catastrophe,  it  may 
perhaps  be  safely  supposed,  that  among  the  eight  persons  saved 
in  the  ark,  but  one  dialect  was  commonly  spoken,  as  we  have 
the  positive  assurance  of  the  inspired  historian,  that  until  some 
time  after  the  deluge,  all  the  earth  was  of  (»ne  speech  and  of  on(! 
language;  according  to  the  computation  commonly  received  in 
Kurope,  it  is  not  more  than  four  thoiisand  years  since  all  men 
spoke  a  common  language.  The  inquiry  which  naturally  |)re- 
senia  itself  is,  whether  the  existing  ramifications  can  be  satisfac- 
torily traced  through  any  common  Iranches,  or  directly  to  their 
union  with  the  primeval  trunk.  It  may  be  diflicull  to  clear  up 
this  question,  as  the  investigation  presupposes  a  more  extensive 
acquaintance  with  ancient  and  modern  langiiages,  than  falls  to  the 
sharv  of  many  to  possess.  Yet  if,  upon  careful  examination,  we 
fmd  a  part,  or  all  tlie  dialects  of  the  American  race  agreeing,  not  in 
the  sound  of  words,  but  in  certain  grammatical  peculiarities,  which 
have  an  intimate  and  inseparable  coimevion  with  the  structure 
and  genius  of  the  language,  as  some  of  the  physical  pecidiaritie- 
of  the  race  depend  unallendily  on  temperament  and  peculiarity 
of  structure,  co-extensive  with  the  race,  we  shall  then  be  c<un- 
jielled  to  adopt  one  or  the  other  of  these  conclusions,  namely, 
that  all  these  dialects,  or  lauixuages,  have  been  derived  from  the 
same  stock  ;  or.  secondly,  if,  with  Malte  Brun  and  others,  wi' 
admit  a  n\miber  <  f  difterent  emigrations  from  remote  parts  of  the 
world,  \vc  must  then  conclude  liial  not  only  language,  but  pliysi- 
ral  conformation,  is  modified,  moulded,  ami  revohitiimized  by  the 
influence  of  situation  and  external  causes.  If  we  admit  the  lat- 
ter con«'lusion,  a:id  believe  that  our  American  race  are  the  de- 
•scendanls  of  people  who  came  at  diU'erent  and  remote  periods, 
from  Asia,  from  Africa,  ami  from  I'iUnqie,  we  nuiy  then  dismiss 
the  inquiry  ut  once.  Having  admitted  the  position,  that  the  Ame- 
rican languages  are  now  all  of  the  same  family,  that  is,  that  lhe\ 
resemble  each  other  as  much  as  the  men  of  the  diflerent  brnds 
uiid  tribes,  in  external   aspect,   physical  «iinslitMtion.  and    tnoriil 


1 

1 

( 

!( 

I' 

X 

't 

! 

i 

' 

> 

MMMiiMfc 


■'■•7 


NOIMll    AMKKU  AN    INUIANS. 


:i87 


mankind  are 
luently  have 
tliat  some  ot 
'  present  day, 
icccc(lin<5  the 
fiphe,  il  may 
lersons  saved 
as  wc  have 
lat  until  some 
•h  and  of  one 
ly  received  in 
since  all  men 
naturally  pre- 
an  be  salist'ac- 
ireclly  to  their 
•ult  to  clear  up 
more  extensive 
han  falls  to  the 
icamination,  we 
((treeing,  not  in 
diarities,  which 
III  (he  slructmc 
lal  peculiarities 
\n(l  peculiarity 
Ihrn  he  coni- 
isions,  niunely. 
rived  IVom  the 
and  others,  w- 
>te  parts  of  ihi' 

|;ii_rc.  hut    pliysi- 

It  ionized  l)y  the 
v  admit  the  lai- 
iu  e  are  the.  de- 
remote  periods, 
lay  then  dismiss 
n,  that  the  Ame- 
lat  is.  that  llie\ 
dilVerent  hi  nds 
on.  and    imnn' 


'  liaraeicr,  resemble  each  other,  we  may  (-ease  to  inquire 
wlience  tlu'v  derive?  the  peculiarities  of  person  and  language, 
))y  which  they  are  distinguished  from  all  other  nu'n.  But  we  be- 
lieve that  an  hypothesis  of  this  kind  will  gain  l\'w  advocates 
anmng  considerate  and  well-informed  inquirers.  We  believe 
there  will  be  found  in  the  languaf?es,  manners,  traditions,  as  well 
as  in  the  physical  conformation  and  character  of  our  Indians, 
proofs  sufhcient  to  satisfy  the  caiuiid  inquirer,  that  they  are  deri- 
ved from  the  Asiatic  stock,  but  not  from  that  branch  of  it  to  whicli 
belonged  the  haughty,  the  noble,  the  unconcpiered  race  of  Ish- 
mael ;  or  to  that  race,  more  interesting  by  tlieir  history.  t)ut  less 
pleasing  in  person,  maimers,  and  character,  to  which  were  com- 
mitted the  promise? ,  and  from  which,  according  to  the  flesh, 
sprang  tim  Savioiir  of  the  world.  The  idea  has  been  a  favourite 
one  with  many  ingenious  and  pious  men.  that  in  our  luitive  Ame- 
ricans wc  see  the  lonsr  h)st  tribes  of  Israel.  iMCfenMity  and  argu- 
ment, as  far  as  they  can  be  carried,  unsupported  by  a  lirm  liasis 
of  tacts,  have  been  exhausted  in  the  discussion  of  this  question. 
We  pro|>os('  not  to  enter  the  field  of  argument.  We  admit  that 
several  of  tlie  usages  of  the  Indians,  such  as  tlieir  rigid  separa- 
tion of  females  during  menstruation,  the  care  with  which  they,  in 
certain  feasts  or  sacrilices,  watch  that  no  bone  of  the  victim  shall 
be  broken,  and  many  others,  form  points  of  strong  resemblance 
between  this  race  and  the  Ilel)rews.  Yet  the  one  fact,  that  their 
languages  all  delight  in  the  composition  of  words.  sufFiciently 
satisfies  us  that  they  cannot  have  been  derived  from  that  stoi-k  to 
which  belongs  the  Ilebr<'w,  the  Chaldaic,  and  the  Arabic.  Other 
arguments,  wliicli,  to  many  minds,  will  not  appear  equally  con- 
clusive, may  be  derived  from  their  total  ignorance  of  the  rite  of 
circumcision,  their  considering  the  llesh  of  dogs  as  acceptable,  in 
saeritice,  to  their  deities,  &c.  &c.  The  two  facts  last  mentioned 
may  he  allowed  to  have  as  much  weisiht  in  an  argument  against 
Hebrew  oriainal,  aa  the  separation  of  females,  and  the  practice 
of  preserviiiL'  entire  the  bones  of  animals  eaten  in  war  feasts,  ran 
have  for  it.  And  thus  wtuihl  it  be  easy  to  bring  some  counter- 
vailing oiijcclion  to  answer  every  (me  of  the  arguments  founded 
on  the  customs  and  o|iinions  of  the  Indiaii-.  It  is  not,  I  believe, 
at  this  time  conside-ed  necessary  to  meet  such  proofs  as  those  of 
Ndair.  which  never  i>...i  any  other  existence  than  in  hi«  own  fc  icv. 


PbG 


",?      i 


.W 


r;  'T.' 


:^VW«',-'«SaNMfe^-.       '—.       -»! 


:}s^ 


i.AN(;i  AOKs  (II    I  jh; 


'^ 


i.  ': 


) 

f 

'i 

t 

f, 

•l 

t 

nor  iK^cil  \\v  lake  into  consideration  tlic  multiplied  arginncnis. 
•and  the  ingenious  speculations  of  others,  who,  without  sufficient 
acqnaintanco  with  the  habits,  lannfuaires,  and  opiniotis,  either  of 
the  remote  Hebrews  or  of  om-  own  Indians,  have  f^one  about  to 
establish  the  belief  of  a  stronjf  similarity  between  them.  In  the 
way  of  a  summary  answer  to  all  the  arguments  of  these  men,  wo 
may  be  allowed  to  state,  that  in  lanj^ua<ie,  rather  than  in  any 
other  character,  would  the  descendants  of  a  people  retain  some 
jeseniblance  to  llieir  remote  ancestors.  Religious  ceremonies, 
civil  and  domestic  customs,  in  the  exposed  and  wandering  life 
of  barbarians,  all  whose  thoimhls  must  often,  and  perhaps  for  a 
greater  part  of  the  time,  be  absorbed  in  the  necessary,  and 
sometimes  painful  and  laljorious  struggle  for  self-preservation, 
often  would  be  intermitted  and  dispensed  witli.  Previous  usages 
woidd  chauiic  lo  suit  the  new  and  ever  var\iiig  condition  of  lb'' 
j)eople.  So  might  language.  IJiit  being  indispensal)le  to  the  iu- 
tercom'sp  of  every  day  niid  e\ery  moment,  in  ;ill  situations  and 
enierg<'ncies,  and  unlike  relioimts  ol)senaiices  of  su<h  a  nature, 
tiiat  what  is  spidxcn  to  day  may,  inid!  r  any  ( ircmiistances,  with 
equal  convenience,  l)e  spoken  to-morrow,  and  with  infniitely 
more  facility  than  new  siirns  can  be  invented  or  understood,  i"  it 
not  rrasonaI)le  that  language,  of  all  liiose  thinas  pertaining  to 
men.  bv  which  their  family  identity  miirht  be  marked,  should 
change  slowest  and  last ' 

iVo  extensive  accpiaiulauce  with  om-  Indians,  and  their  lan- 
guages, is  recpiired  to  perceive,  that  in  all  emergencies  of  neces- 
sity, as  in  those  instances  where  tln\v  are  compelled  to  exchansre 
ideas  with  foreigners,  they  readily  adopt  any  terms  in  a  foreign 
idiom,  for  which  tliey  may  not  lind  a  correspoiuling  sign  in  their 
own  ;  and  words  thus  adopted  becoming  parts  of  their  own  lan- 
guage, are  subject  lo  all  the  inlleclions  ami  nntdifications  of 
sound  of  those  which  appertain  oriiinally  1<>  their  tongue.  Hence 
that  diversity  in  scnnul  of  \. oriN  in  llie  vari(Uis  dialects,  which 
bids  defiance  to  elymolonical,  <>r  jvitlu'r  i)b;innlooicjil  investiga- 
tion. I5ul  though  sounds,  wiiicli,  for  the  sake  of  illustration. 
may  be  cmnpared  to  j»Ianks  on  the  frame  of  a  vessel,  or  shingles 
on  the  roof  of  a  lious".  may  be,  iin(>  by  one,  removed  and  sid)sti- 
tuted  liy  new  oues,  still  the  original  frame  of  the  lauguaire.  the 
grammatical  construction,  the  idiomatic    foritv.  remainin?  t''** 


.M»RTll  AMLRIt-AN    INDIANA 


'3S9 


1  iu-i'iiincnts. 
Dut  suflicicnr 
MS,  either  of 
one  about  to 
icin.     In  the 
esc  men,  Ave 
than   in  any 
5  retain  some 
3  ceremonies, 
amU'ring  life 
perhaps  for  a 
icessary,   an<l 
■preservalioH; 
ovions  nsaa;es 
ndltion  of  th'^ 
ahlo  to  the  in- 
hitnations  ami 
such  a  nalvnT, 
iifitances.  willi 
with   infmitely 
lulcrslootl,  i"  ii 
1  pertaining  to 
larlied.  shonhl 

ami  their  lan- 
ics  of  neres- 
l  to  exrhan'-'e 
l\s  HI  a  forei<j;n 
(T  siirn  in  their 
their  own  hm- 
xlifications  of 
iiiijue.    Hence 
iah'Cts,   whirh 
ical  investiga- 
i("  illu'tralion. 
s(  1.  or  sliinfih'^ 
vid  and  substi- 
anguasie.  llie 
remainin?  t'" 


same,  the  language  rrrtainly  reniai!i.^  the  same  laiimiagc,  though 
aUogetlier  clianged  in  sound,  as  a  vessel,  covered  v.ilh  ncnv  pUink^ 
of  a  diflerent  eolour  and  aspect,   would   still  lie  tlie  s;;me  vessel. 
Therefore,  we  think  that  if  the  American  language-  can  he  proved 
closely  and  entirely  to  riscmtdt;  each  other  in  gram.inaiical  forms 
an<l  general  arranaiinent,  we  may  safely  consider  ihem  all  as  dia- 
lects of  tfie  sani'    stock,  ihoagh  they  sliould  now  present  wide 
and  apparently  nnaccounlahle  iliversities  in  llie  sounds  of  words. 
How   much  more  easily  the  ^^uunds  of  words,   standing  for  the 
ideas  \\v  have  in  our  minds,  may  he  chanaed,  tlian  the   oraruma- 
lical  structure  and  idiom  of  languaire,  we  may  every  day  ohservo 
in  foreigners,   who,  though  they  may  ever  so  carei'ully  and  per- 
fectly have  learned  our  language,  rarely,  if  (;ver,  attain  to  some  of 
the  niceties  peculiar  to  our  tongue,  or  ever  lay  entirely  aside  some 
of  the  characteristic  jjeculiarilics  of  their  own.    If  we  reflect  on  the 
lialnts  of  the  life  the  Indians  lead,  tlieir  frequout  migrations,  in- 
termarriages with  distant  hands,  their  con(|ues|s,  the  numbers  of 
j)risoners  they  adopt,  and.  more  than  all,  the  want  of  any  w  ritteii 
characters  to  represent  sounds,  we  shall  wol  be  sin-priscd  lo  tind 
>iicli  wide  diversitv   in  tlu;  sound  of  what  are  acknowledi/cd  to  he 
I  he  same  words  in  diirerent  dialects  of  llie  sanu*  loiiuue  ;  mn*  shall 
we  hastily,  on  the  foundation  of  unw  diversity  of  so'ind,  attempt 
to  establish  a  midtiplicity  of  diflirent  stocks.     It  is  to  b"  remem- 
bered, lliat  the  Americans   liav.^    never,    like   t'le  ancicut  Arabs, 
made    the  improvement   of  their  idiom   a   counnon,   (u*,   in  any 
shape,  a  <xeneral  or  j)ublic  concern  ;  they  have  never  appointetl 
solemn  assemblies  for  tlic  purpose  of  exercising  tludr  jxtetical  la- 
lent",   or   held  it  a  duty  to  make  their  children  aciiuainted   with 
traditicmary  composition^  of  any  sort,  which  measures,  <'ven  hail 
they  lieen  adopted,  C(»uld    not  have  eireciu;dly  stcured  their  lan- 
guages against  mutations  oi  souml  or  .structure. 

But  although  we  can  by  no  means  pretend  eitlh>r  to  trace  the 
American  languages  to  the  remote  pari  lit  stock,  or  to  assert  !h;;t 
they  have  or  have  not  been  derived  from  existing  and  known 
languages,  \vc  may  easily  uroupp  logetlnr  those  which  have 
manifest  resemblance,  equally  in  structure  and  in  the  sound  of 
words,  and  the  groupes  tinis  formed  will  always  be  found  to 
bring  together  assemblages  of  people,  showing  stroiiij  family  re- 
semblance to  rach  other.     The  threefold  (hvision  which  Ava--  long 


J  i  i 


•sw 


LANOlAGKb  01-    illb 


;>l  •'        * 


m       .  (' 


lift ''' 


'■' »/ ' 


4 


fV  5 


^  -{ 


1 

i 

:  1 

i 

if      1 

* 

1 

1 

since  made  by  Mr.  Heckewolder,  of  the  language!?  uillun  tlu- 
United  States'  territory,  is  ])robably  founded  in  correct  observa- 
lion  of  the  district  at  that  time  iinovvn.  The  Lenni  Lennape,  m 
Algonkin,  the  Iroquois,  and  the  Floridian,  presenting  each  nu- 
merous and  widely  dissimilar  dialects,  occupy  all  the  country 
from  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  to  Cape  Florida,  and  westward  to 
and  beyond  the  Mississippi.  Of  the  languages  spoken  in  the  re- 
mote and  almost  unexplored  countries  about  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, too  little  information  has  been  obtained,  to  enable  us  to  in- 
dicate to  what  extent  the  dialects  of  either  of  the  above  mention- 
ed groupes  may  prevail  in  that  direction.  Toward  the  north  the 
Iroquois  seem  to  be  limited  to  a  few  remaining  in  the  settled  parts 
of  Canada,  and  to  the  Dahcotah  bands  extending  northward,  in 
the  direction  of  the  upper  branches  of  the  Mississippi,  but  scarce 
reaching  the  parallel  ol'  forty  donrees  north.  Beyond  this  the 
Algonkin  dialects,  particularly  the  Ojibbeway  and  Cree,  and  the 
Muskegoe,  ex|)aiid  throujih  all  the  country,  from  near  the  base 
of  the  Kocky  Moimtains  to  the  south  western  shores  of  Hudson'* 
Hay,  and  even  in  the  vast  j)eninsula  of  Labrador. 

Wesiwaril  of  Hudson's  Bay,  from  the  Churchill  River  to  thr 
I'acific  coast,  and  northwanl  to  the  country  of  the  Estpiimaux. 
are  found  the  languages  of  the  Chip-pe-w  i-yan*  groupe,  includinjj 
the  people  conunonly  ciilicd  Cliii)|)eM'yans,  the  Sarcess,  the 
Beaver,  Bed  Knife,  Stronix  [Jow  Indians,  and  many  other  tribe- 
Here  we  meet  with  a  languaoc  far  more  monosyllabic  than  an\ 
hitherto  known  among  the  North  Americans ;  one  possessing  a 
dual  termination  for  substantives,  but  no  plural,  and  whose  verbs 
are  nearly  or  quite  incapable  of  inflection.     Yet  in  the  eircum- 

•  Of  the  ori;^in  nl  tlic  iiiiinc  ( 'hi|)-|ic-wi-yan,  liy  whicli,  sinco  Hearne  ami 
M'Krn7.io,  tlu'sc  ijonpli'  hiivc  lieeri  called,  it  may  now  he  ilifficult  tn  ufivc  any  satis- 
I'urtory  arronnf.  A  very  intcllim-nt  pcrsnii  anionij  Ihe  OjihlHJways  :i.sserts,  that  llv 
name  is  ilci'iviMJ  IVdiii  that  laiiijuaire,  and  is  nrdy  a  vicious  iirdiiiinciatidii  of  tin' 
conipiiuiid  word  fi-jrr-irwi-ynn,  whicli  incans  the  skin  of  the  (islier  weasi-i.  Hut 
»he('lu-|K'-wi-van3,  in  their  own  couiUry,  have  no  knowledire  of  the  animal,  and 
it  is  not  easy  to  iniairine  how  tlicuaiiie  of  ilsskin  should  have  lie<>n  (ixed  U(K)n  hy 
them  as  a  di-iiucii\e  a])|K'llalion.  They  are  called  liy  the  Canadians,  and  nianv 
while  men  residing  in  the  Alhavasea  country,  "  Mountaineers,"  which  a|i|>ella- 
lion  lliey  derive  from  llie  coimtiy  (d"  lileak  ami  snowy  rocks,  which  they  inhaliil. 
Tanner  thinks  the  name  O-ji'c-r^wr-iinli-nii!^  mny  he  derived  from  a  word  whic'i 
'%HP,iii-i.  "  ti)  iiiirrr  irlth  nn  iiirl  <i  folil  nr^l.hi.'' 


*"**■""  iiir'li'Wi 


NORTJl  AMKRICAN  INDIANS. 


yyi 


cp  williitt  tlif 
reel  observa- 
i  Lennapc,  ov 
iling  each  nu- 
I  the  coimtiy 
J  westwarl  to 
ken  in  the  ri;- 
Rocky  Moun- 
lable  us  to  in- 
bove  inention- 

the  north  llu 
le  settled  parts 

northward,  in 
ppi,  but  scarce 
cyond  this  thf 

Crce,  and  tht 

I  near  the  base 
es  of  Hudson" ■= 

II  River  to  tin' 
ho  Ks([uiniaux. 
oupe,  includiiiji 
B   Sarcess,   the 

y  otlnr  tribes 
il)ic  than  any 
le  possessing  a 
d  wliose  verbs 
in  the  circum- 


ncc  H«ariw  'ami 

to  ifivi-  anysatis- 

iirtsrrts,  that  111'' 

oiuincintiim  of  tln' 

sluT  Wl'ilSi'l.      Uul 

I  the  animal,  anil 
lien  lixi'il  uiion  by 
adiaus,  uiul  manv 
which  api"'"'' 

wiiichllipyinhuliii. 

twin  a  word  whic'i 


K.V 


Stance  of  a  tendency  to  compounding,  we  find  it  no',  unhke  otlier 
dialects.  The  peculiarities  of  these  languages  arc  as  yet  too 
little  understood  to  enable  the  philologist  to  pronounce  with  cou- 
tidencc  that  they  have  any  nearer  resemblance  to  the  Algonkiii 
or  the  Iroquois,  than  to  the  Erse  or  German.  Yet  the  people 
who  speak  them  have,  in  their  persons,  all  the  prominent  jjccu- 
liarities  of  the  American  race. 

Of  all  the  remaining  parts  of  iVorth  America,  information  is  too 
scanty  to  justify  any  attempt  to  class  the  dialects. 

In  the  present  state  of  information  on  these  subjects,  more  im- 
portant service  will  be;  rendered  t(»  philology,  by  adding  to  the 
mass  of  materials,  than  by  any  vague  and  general  discussions; 
we  shall  therefore  devote  the  remainder  of  this  chapter  to  such 
specimens  of  Indian  languages  as  have  fallen  in  our  way,  pre- 
mising that  our  aim  has  been  to  conform,  as  nrarl  as  possible, 
lo  the  orthography  of  the  English  language.*  This  orthography 
is  liable  to  many  objections  ;  so  also  would  be  any  other  that 
<"ould  be  devised.  The  sounds  of  letters  must  always  be  some- 
what arbitrary,  inasmuch  as  there  is  no  manner  of  resemblance 
between  the  sign  and  the  thing  signilled. 

<  v4  is  to  be  soundi'd  as  ii»  tlitc ;  nh  as  in  latlKT;  tiip  still  broader  snniid  i^ 
marked  by  aic,  or  uu.  The  other  Knglish  vowels  are  less  ambiifuous.  C  only 
used  lielbre  /;,  and  the  sound  thus  indicated  is  never  to  be  ooni[HJundcd  with  that 
of/.'.  G  is  always  hard,  as  in  go  ;  j  always  sot\,  as  in  J.Jiir.  At  thf  end  of  word:! 
it  has  the  sound  of  the  Rns^lish  (/gr.  as  in  knowlvdije  ;  :li  soiniJs  as  ,v  in  pleasure. 

Several  of  the  consonant  sounds  are  used  inferchanjreably,  not  only  in  difTe- 
rent  dialects,  but  even  in  the  same,  and  by  people  of  the  same  bund  :  thus,  m  for 
71,  gfork,  or  '  for  cither,  h  for  /),  rf  for  t,  I  lor  n,  and  r  for  either  of  these.  In  the 
Crce  dialect,  for  exainjile,  the  word  c-rin-iir  sijjnilies  man ;  in  the  Ojibbcway  it  is 
e-nin-ni: ;  in  some  other  dialect  a|i|iro,ichiiii;  the  D.'liiwarc,  if  is  il-kn-ni ;  in  the 
Delaware,  according  to  Zeisln'r^er,  Icn-no ;  in  llie  Menomonic  c-imai,  or  citni- 
ncw,  when  the  meaning  of  the  verb  substantive  is  combined.  This  observation 
should  be  Ixirne  in  mind  by  all  who  take  the  trouble  to  ci)m|iare  and  examino 
the  wriUen  words  of  any  Indian  laniiuaire.  To  niiiny  of  the  Algonkin  dialects 
the  sound  of  h  is  entirely  Ion  ign;  others  have  no  r.  Many  of  the  <ruttural  and 
nondescript  sounds  of  the  Chijtjiewyan,  as  well  as  several  of  those  in  the  Winnc. 
bago,  and  the  nasal  in  the  Algonkiii.  <'annot  be  represented  by  our  alphabet. 


i 

1 

1^ 

* 
1 

3y'.i 


CUMPARISON   OF    WOKUf^ 


'll  ^  I   ■; 
'WW'' 

I 


'  I  / 


V     '' 

i ,  ■•             » . 

J   r     ■      ■   ^     ■ 

' 

f    (     ■ 

COMI'AKIsU.S  OF  VVOIID^S  AND  Si;NfE\CKS  IN  TH£  DIALECTS  OF    I'HE 
OTIAWW  AW  s  AM)  MENOMOME.S. 

Otlau'iruic.  Menomonic.  KiigUsli.  Free  translation,  <f".-. 

Mo-iiolcli-])iin-gee — Mo-na-wutrh — A  little. 
O-ta-nu'-iH'-kwain — Kut-tai-mc-no — Ho    will    drink.      IIo    uiil 

drink  a  little. 
'J'uii-isli-win — Tah-tah-wc-iiah — Wherefore. 

IVIow-wy-un  ? — lls-moke  ? — Doth  ho  cry  ? 

Ka-gaw-pnn^-ge-zhe-moke — Ka-zho-nieut — Near  sun  set.  Ahuosi 
.'^nn  set. 

Kaw-wcen — Kun — \ol. 

Neen-ilah-koosc-!<e— \e-\\a-suk-ko-si-nun — I  was  not  sick. 

Ke-tah-koose-nah  ? — Ko-wa-suk-ko-si-met '. — Art  thou  sick  ( 

Ruh-kish-piii-at-tone-nah  ? — Kau-to-te-pai-hai-mel  ? — Wilt  ihoii 
l)uy  ?  For  substances  inanimate,  or  animals  not  entire, 
except  a  stone  is  spoken  ol'.  In  the  case  of  entire,  oi- 
livinif  bodies.  Kidi-kish-piu-a-aali-nali,  (Sec. 

Ke-pe-nu-gin-nah — Ke-pe-now-wuk-ket — Dost  thou  brino 

She  she-buk  ? — Sha-shui-puk  ? — ducks  ? 

Ke-pe-naii-nah — Ke-pe-now— Dost  fhoii  brinii 

.She-sheeb  ? — Sha-s]iai|)  ?— a  duck  .'  More  commonly  the  order 
of  arrangement  is  the  revert';  Sha-shaip-ke-pe-no\v,  &c. 

Kn-to-kwain — Nin-nauk — I  know  not. 

Ga-gel-nah-  -Kat-ten-nah — Indeed  [is] 

O-ke-mah-ow  ? — O-ko-mow-wavv-wew  ? — he  is  a  chief?  Is  he 
indeed  a  chief .'  or,  doth  he  chief  ?  The  resemblance  to 
the  Greek  BctTiAiyw.and  tlie  Latin  Regno,  both  hi  compo- 
sition and  signilication.  need  not  be  pointed  out  to  the 
j)hilologist. 

O-wa-naiii — Wuh-nt' — Who 

Go.s-kitche-ah-na-pwa-ot  ? — !Skcsh-siik-ke-poutch  ? — bit  hia  nose 

ojr: 

Nish-a-nati-ba — Ma-cha-ti  (adj.  '.) — An  Indian 
We-ko-mi-ko-onk  — We-ko-mik-ko — at  tlie  lodge 


\'     V 


i.O.UFAKISO.S    OF   UOUJUS, 


393 


UliawWaic. 


Mcnomovie 


English. 


t-'m'  translation,  tfv 


,EC'rs  OF    I'llE 

translation,  <|"'. 
V.      Ho    ^^i!l 

Ausei.  Almosi 


lot  sick, 
lou  sick '. 
f — Wilt    thou 
lis  n*it  entire, 
of  »ulire,  or 

\i  l>iin<: 


)iily  llie  order 
;-pc-nu\v,  &.(". 


Iiicfj     Is  he 

HinbUuice  to 

Dill  in  compo- 

led  out  to  the 


—bit  his  nose 


We-tush-e — Owa— he  will  be 

Ke-wus-kwa-bc — Ke-wus-ke-pe-nun — drunk.  He  will  be  driuik 
at  the  Indian  lodge. 

Een-gah-ke-way — Nuh-ke-waim — I  will  go  home.  For  the  ideas 
of  fitness,  propriety,  personal  beauty,  and  line  quality,  as 
of  a  blanket,  &c.  they  commonly  use  the  same  word. 

Bo-zin — Po-she-nun — Embark,  (imper.) 

Kitche-kwi-naitch — Na-sha-wis-ke-wuh — it  is  very  well 

Bo-au-zi-un — Us-hub-po-si-un — that  you  embark. 

0-wa-nain-waw-te-ga-mut  ? — Wah-wia-ke-mut  ?* — Witl/  whom 
lives  he  ? 

Ke-wus-shiz-ze-wuk— Ka-wis-so-wuk  ah-wuk — They  are  orphans. 

Ke-we-ah-m'woi-gin-nah — Push-ke-mwow-wuk-ket  ? — Will  yon 
cat 

Me-she-min-ug  ? — Me-she-min-uk  ? — apples  ? 

Maung — Mouk — A  loon, 

Ma-za-tah-go-zit — Kou-ke-to — he  yells.     A  loon  yells. 

We'metai-we-wug — Kut-tai-metai-wc-wuk — They  will  have  uietai 

A-gaw-mink — A-gaw-me — on  the  other  side.  They  are  about  to 
have  a  medicine  dance  and  least  on  the  other  side  the 
river. 

Kitche — Ketch — Very  much 

Ke-te-mah-ki-zhe — Ka-ti-mok-ka-/hit — lie  is  poor.  He  is  vcr\ 
poor. 

A-gaw-mink — A-gaw-nie-iun — From  the  other  side 

Ne-to-an-je-bah — Ne-to-pe-um — I  came.  I  came  across,  er  from 
the  other  side. 

Win-nc-ba-go-kwi—Win-ne-ba-go-ke-wun— A  Winnebago  voman 

Mi-uk-e-kway-wan — Wa-wa — he  wives  ; 

Pun-gee  Ome-nom-o-ne-wew — Mc-na-watch  ah-wew — a  little, 
he  Menomonies.  A  Winnebago  woman  is  his  wife,  him- 
self is  a  sort  of  a  Menomonie.  The  arrangement  of  the 
words  diflers  in  the  two  dialects.  The  termination  ah- 
wew,  which  marks  the  verb,  being  separated  in  the  Meno- 
monie. 

*  Wah-vria-kc-muU  With  whom  doth  he  we-gp-vvam  .'  This  is  similar  to  the 
tireek  in  John  i.  14.  '■  The  leord  was  made  fxslu  nvd  dwelt  amovg  us; 
"»»t)v(iiff(i'  fv  liiuv,  litt'rallv,  tabernaclrd  amuvfr  iis. 


<"■  -**«lftl*,^.    ^.  ^^,. 


I? ' 


3U4 


COMPARISON    OF    WORDS. 


»'.r 


f"\ 


.    V 


b    V;;,:* 


I     ?,sl 


f;i 


i  Is  <'■'■/■ 


Otlamcair.  Mcnouwnir.  English.  Frcr.  translation,  <f<. 

Ah-g\vut-chiii{f — A-giiat-chcw — Without.    Out  side  of  the  lodge. 
Nish-a-nau-baig — Ma-eha-ti-wuk — Indians 
Ta-kosh-in-oag — Pc-wuk-  — tliey  come, 
Che-to-wug — Ah-\vauk — they  say.      Indians  arc    coming,  they 

.<!ay  ;  or,  it  is  said,  Indians  are  coming. 
Ke-ke-wa\v-nem — Ke-ka-no-kim — Thou  liest, 
Ke-sa-ah-gis-in-nah ? — Ke-ko-ti-met? — dost  thou  fear? 
Nah-wutch — Ko-kai-win-ne-ko — More 
Ke-zhc-kah — Ke-she-ah — he  is  swift.     He  is  swifter. 
U-nc-shaw — Na-shup-naip — "Without  cause, 
TaJi-neen-a-ke-toi-un  ? — Kis-ke-zha-met  I — w  hat    sayest     thou  ? 

EniTna-xv  fct  faf^exv,  John    xvi.    25.    "They  hated    me, 

without  cause,'''  is  a  form  of  expression  similar  to  this  in 

tlic  dialect  of  the  Mcnomonies.     Nas-kiip-nai  ke-pe-um- 
nict?  Without  cause,  or  for  nothing,  didst  thou  come? 
Tah-neen  a-ke-tote  ? — Kus-ha-wat-to  ? — What  saith  he? 
Kub-ba — Ko-pai — Throughout 
Ke-zhik — Ka-zhik — the  day. 

Kom-nia-cee,  or,  kaw-ma-cie — Kun-ne-mah-shew — Not  yet 
Ne-we-shc-ne'.se — Ne-meet-che-shim — I   eat.      I   have    not  yet 

eaten,  or,  it  is  before  I  have  eaten. 
No-pe-mik* — No-pa-ma — Back 
Pe-po-fiish-shc — Kin-nuh-pe-po-nup-pa — thou  wilt  winter.     The 

Ottawwaw  is  in  the  imperative  mood  ;  the  Menomonie,  in 

tile  future,  Jised  as  imperative. 
Tau-ue-pc — Ko-pai-pe-pone — All  winter, 
Ke-pe-po-ne-t<lieak  '. — 7'<c.s-kesh-pe-po-na-piak  ? — when     did    ye 

winter  ?     There  is  here  some  difference  in  the  arrantre- 

ment  of  the  words. 
Pe-po-nunk  ? — Winters. 
Tau-ne-i)e — Tas — Where 
Ke-ne-bin-e-she  I — O-e-at-ne-bin  ah-kwo  ? — didst  thou  summer  ? 

Where  didst  thou  remain  throughout  the  summer?  is  the 

translation  of  the  sentence  in  Menomonie. 

*  This  wonl,  which  incans,  as  here  used,  back;  or  off' the  routes  ot  coniuiunica- 
tfon,  has  been  translated,  or  rather  parapnrased  by  the  traders^  in  the  lamis. 
No'pe-mik  means,  also,  at  the  back  side  of  a  house,  &c- 


CuMPAHHdS   OF   WOHDS. 


'Mb 


ranslalion,  4^. 
)f  the  lodge. 

;oming,  they 


ayest  thou ! 
y  hated  me, 
lilar  to  this  in 
nai  ke-pe-um- 
thou  come? 
ihe? 


-Not  yet 
have    not  yet 


winter.     The 
Menomonie,  in 


hen     did    ye 
n  the  arrange- 


thou  simuner? 
summer  ?  is  the 


ites  ot  coniuiunica- 
cre>  in  the  lainif. 


Oltatcieaic.  Menomonie.  F.nglhh.  I'yee  trun-^-lati<m,  ij-c. 

Pe-kwut-linn-onk — Pe-kwut-ti-no — At  Peguttino 

Ko-pa-een-je-tah — Ne-kes-kim-ine-no  ko-pa-no-biu — I  reniaineil 
all  summer. 

Tau-ne-pe  ke-pe-po-ne-sliit — Tas-kesh-pe-po-niip-pet — Where 
did  he  winter, 

Ke-si-ah? — Ka-sha — thy  elder  brother?  "VMiere  did  thy  elder 
brother  pass  the  winter  ? 

Tau-ne-pe  as-hi-at — Tas-e-et — Where  remains 

Non-gum — Muh-no-nah-new — now 

Ke-si-ah  ? — Ka-sha  ? — thy  elder  brother  ?  Where  is  now'  your 
elder  brother  ? 

Shi-a — Sha — Soon 

Neen-gah-waw-bo-maw — Nuli-nah-wow — I  sliall  see 

Ne-si-ah — Na-sha — my  elder  brother. 

Paw-nc-maw — Kun-new — By  and  by 

Neen-gah — Nuh — I  shall 

Kus-kau-dum — Kus-kai-ne-tuni — sorrow.  By  and  by  I  sliall  be 
.sorry. 

No-pe-mlk — No-pa-nia — From  bark 

Nce'toan-je-bah — Ne-to-pe-nm — I  came.  I  came  I'rom  the  lavda, 
or  from  the  interior. 

Ke-ke-pc-mish  kaw-nah  ? — Oos-ke-pish  o-met-us-pe-um  ''. — Didst 
thou  paddle  ?  Didst  thou  come  by  water  f  The  expres- 
sions are  not  similar  in  the  two  dialects. 

Kaw-ween — Kun — No  ; 

f*azh-ko-ka-she — Pazh-ko-ka-she — a  horse 

Neen-pe-pa-mo-mik— Ne-pish-nio-nik — me  did  bring.  No;  f 
came  on  horse  back. 

Pah-ti-e-no-wug — Ma-sha — Many 

In-nah. 

Kah-pe-we-je-wuh-jik  ? — Pish-we-je-waw-wuk-ket  ?— did  th«"y  ac- 
company thee  ?  Did  many  persons  come  with  thee .' 
Kef,  at  the  end  of  tlie  Menomonie  verb,  has  tlie  force 
o(  in-nah,  or  nah.  which  is  tlie  mark  of  interrogation  hi 
the  Ottawwaw. 

Nah-nun — No-an-nun — Five 

Neen-ge-pe-we-je-wank Pish-we-je-waw-wuk accompanied. 

Five  persons  came  with  me. 


fit 


h 


:{<»(» 


COMPAKISON   OK  WOKDS. 


f-    '  i\t 


f} ,'   1 


>i 


OUaicicaii,  Mr.nomonie.  Rnglish.  f-'n'c  Iranslalion,  if-c 

Win-ne'  wi-gim — Match-o-lo  o-kau-nun — Man's  bones 
N>cn-!Te-mt'-kah-niin — Np-inah-kini-un — I  found.     I   found  hu- 
man bones,  or,  the  bones  of  a  man. 

Tau-nc-pc-kc-kc  muli-kum-un — Tas-kesh  mak-kaw-mun— Where 
didst  tind 

O-kun-nun  ?* — O-kau-nun  ? — bones  ?    Where  did  you  find  bones  ? 

Pe-guh-kum-mc-gah-sink — Spaw-ke-uh — On  a  mound 

Neen-gc-mc-kaw-nun — Ne-mah-kun — I  found 

O-kun-nun — O-kau-nun — bones.    Ne-nah-kun,  in  the  Menomo- 

nic,  appears  to  be  in  past  time,  without  the  usual  syllable 

to  mark  it. 
Puk-kau-nun — Puk-kau-nuk — Nuts, 
Ne-kish-pin-at-to-nun—Ne-kesh-tah-pah-hak-wuk— I  bought  them. 

These  examples  arc  not  entirely  similar;  the  verb  used 

in  the  Menomonie  being  found  also  in  the  other  dialect, 

and  in  both  meaning  to  pay,  though  it  is  commonly  thus 

used  by  the  Menomonies. 
(Jau-gwug — Ke-ti-me-wuk — Porcupines, 
Mc-na-sun — Me-na-sun — thorn  apples 
Tumni-wow-waun — Ke-me-wuk — they  eat.     Porcupines  eat  thorn 

apples. 
Maung — Monk — A  loon 
Wi-e-buh  bc-che-sa — Os-ke-pew — comes  early — A   loon   comes 

early  in  spring. 
Mau-na-shoeuH — Mau-na-sha-sha — A  fawn 
Vah. 
Ke-pe-nau  I — Ke-pe-no\v ? — dost  thou  bring  .'     Have  you  brought 

a  fawn  '. 
Mau-na-shecn-snk — \Iau-na-slia-shuk — Fawns 
.\'ali-ke-pe-naug  ? — Ke-pe-now-M  iik-ket  ? — dost  thou  bring?  Have 

you  brought  fawns  ? 
We-yaus-in-nah — Ma-ja-ma-sha — Meat 
Kr-pc-tone ? — Ke-pe-to-inrt?--iIost   thou  bring?     Do  you  bring 

I  neat  .' 


*  Vtoiw  tills  nxninjilt!  compared  with  the  preccdinif,  we  may  see  how  flexible 
arc  the  words  in  theso  dialects,  when  used  in  combination;  mn-»ic-tri/ g^un  in- 
stead o(  a-niv-nc  o-kiin-niit\. 


I  OMPARISON  OF  WORDS. 


397 


ranslation,  if-f 

es 

[  found  hu- 

nun— "Where 

u  find  bones  ? 
iid 

he  Menomo- 
usual  syllable 


[  boughtthem. 

he  verb  used 

other  dialect, 

^mmonly  thus 


pines  eat  thorn 
I.  loon  comes 

you  brought 
.bring?  Have 
Do  vou  bring 


see  how  flcxibU' 


(JUaiewaie.  Menomanie.  Knglish.         Free  translation,  (f-',- 

0-pe-neeg  in-nah — 0-pai-neuk — Potatoes 
Ke-pe-naug? — Ke-pe-now-wuk-ket ? — dost  thou  bring?    Do  yoi 

bring  potatoes  ? 
Wavv-was-kesh — Pah-zhus — Red  deer. 
Ka-go — Poan — Do  not. 
Gi-as-koo-sha — Pas-ke — A  gull. 
0-nu-inun — O-nah-mun — Red  paint. 
Min-ne-kwain — Me-nai-nun — Drink  thou. 
Kok-kin-nah — Mow-wo — All. 
0-way-o — Way-uk — Some  one 
Ne-ke-me-nik — Ne-kcsh-ma-nik — me  did  give.    Some  one  gave  it 

me. 
Mok-kut-ti-wah — Op-pa-je — Black. 
Wah-ne— Wah— Who 
Wa-che-mau-net  T — 0-tos-hiah-wik  ?* — is  that   canoe  ?      Whose 

canoe  is  that  ? 
Neesh  o-ke-maig — Neesh  o-ka-mow-wuk — Two  chiefs 
Che-mau-ne-wah — 0-to-now — it  is  their  canoe.     It  is  the  canot; 

of  two  chiefs. 
Bo-che-kwet — Bo-che-kwet-to — To  Green  Bay 
We-shaw-wuk — Kut-tai  we-she-wuk — they  will  go.     They  will 

go  to  Green  Bay,  or,  Bo-che-kwet. 
0-wus-he-mah — Ko-kai-win-nc-ko — More 
At-ta  o-nis-he-shin — Pus  ne-raa-no — could  I  well 
Ne-tai-pe-mah-te-ze — Pa-mah-ta-shim — live 
.Tc-ba-gom-mi-gonk — Je-pi  me-ne-kaw-ne — in  the  town    of  the 

(lead.     I  could  be  more  happy  to  die ;  or,  in  the  village 

of  the  dead  I  could  live  belter. 

♦  Wah-o-tos-hi-ah-wik?  is  pronounced  by  the  Menomonies  as  one  word  ;  it  is 
probable  that  the  interrogative  pronoun  vsah  should  be  considered  separate.  Of 
the  remaining  syllables,  the  prefix  o  seems  used  to  indicate  the  third  person  ;  the 
next  syllable,  to,  pronounced  toe,  is  the  word  oos,  meaning  canoe  ;  and  iahwik  im- 
plies possession.  The  whole  sentence  is  similar  in  form  and  signification  to  what 
we  often  hear  from  Canadians,  or  persons  very  imperfectly  actjuainted  willi  the 
English  language.  "  Who  belongs  that  canoe  1"  The  word  neen-di-ah,  which 
has  by  some  been  thought  to  afford  an  affirmative  answer  to  the  question,  whe- 
tiier  these  languages  have  the  verb  substantive,  to  me  appears  to  correspond  very 
accurately  with  the  Latin  habeo,  Iche  iah't,  habere,  and  like  that  verb,  it  may  be 
used  for  the  true  verb  substantive. 


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398 


COMPARISON   OF    WORDF. 


OUawwaiB.  Mcnomonie.  English.  Free  translalion,  (j-i, 

Kee-ta-ne-mo-siew-nah  ? — A-na-mo-neen  ke-tai-wim-met  ? — Art 

thou  a  dog? 
Ah  ncet-ane-moose — On-kah'a-nam    ne-tai-wim — Yes,    I    am  a 

dog. 
Je-bu-ka-nong — Je-pi  e-mik-kun — Road  of  the  dead. 


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WORDS   AND   PURAbEtJ. 


399 


OJIBBEWAY  WORDS   AND   PHRASES. 

Fire — Ish-koo-da.     Fires — Ish-koo-daig. 

Smoke  of  a  distant  fire — Pukkwa-na. 

Water — Nee-bc. 

Ice — Mik-kwun. 

Earth— Ah-kc. 

Land — Ah-ke. 

A  little  ground — Pun-ge-sha-ah-ke. 

Big,  big  lake — Gitche-gitche-gum-me/ 

Wave — Te-go.     Waves-  -Tc-go-wug. 

Lake — Sah-gi-c-gun. 

Shore — Tid-e-ba. 

On  the  shore — Cheeg-a-beeg. 

Island — Me-nis.     Islands — Me-nis-iui. 

River — Se-be.     Rivers — Se-bc-wun. 

Dirty  pond — Pe-to-beeg.     Small  clear  pond — Ne-bis. 

Rivulet — Se-bo-wis-sha. 

Rivulet,  or  small  River — Sc-be-ainsc. 

Up  the  river — 0-go-tah-jc-wun. 

Down  the  river — Nees-sah-je-vvun. 

Falls — Bow-we-tig. 

Rapids — Sah-sah-jc-wun. 

Boiling  spring — Mo-kid-je-wun  ne-beeg. 

Crossing  place — Ah-zhug-ga-win 

♦  Ghche-gitchc-gum-mc,  (far,  far  across.)  This  seems  to  be  the  only  word  the 
western  Indians  have  for  the  ocean,  a  circumstance  which  would  induce  one  to 
believe,  (could  any  reliance  bo  placed  upon  a  language  preserveu  only  *^y  the  me- 
mories, and  consequently  depending  on  the  external  circumstances  of  a  few  rude 
men,)  that  these  trilws  are  not  the  remains  of  those  formerly  driven  west,  but 
have  long  occupied  their  present  position.  The  manner  of  expressing  the  super- 
lative degree  appears  similar  to  that  in  the  Hebrew,  where  we  are  informed  the 
degrees  of  comparison  are  made  sometimes  by  prefixing  certain  syllables,  or  by 
repeating  the  word  expressing  quality,  whether  substantive  or  adjective.  By 
some  the  word  Gitche-gum-me  is  considered  a  compound  of  Gltche,  (great,)  and 
gum-maif^,  (water."! 


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WORDS  AND  PHRASEi. 


Banks  of  a  river — Kish-kut-te-na..nk. 

Forks — Saw-waw-koo-te-kwi-aig. 

Left  hand  side — Mum-mun-jc-nik  e-nuh-kuh-ka-yali. 

Right  liand — Gitche-nik. 

Portage — One-gum. 

Hill — Pe-kwut-te-naw. 

Mountain — Wud-ju.     Mountains — Mud-ju-wun. 

Valley— Nas-sah-wut-te-naug. 

Valley — Tah-wut-te-naug. 

Path — Me-kun-nuh. 

War  road — Nun-do-bun-ne  me-kun-nuh. 

Stone — Us-sin.     Stones — Us-sin-neeg. 

Rock — Ah-zhe-beek . 

Sand — Na-gow. 

Clay — Waw-be-gun, 

Dirt  of  houses — We-ah-gus-se. 

Mud — Uz-zish-ke. 

Cavern  in  rock — Ween-bah-zho-ke-kah. 

Cavern,  or  hole  in  ground — Weem-baiali. 

Salt — She-we-(au-gun. 

Salt  spring — She-we-tau-gun  e-mo-gitche-wun-ne-beeg. 

Deer  lick — Om-waush  ke-wa-wa. 

Metal — Pe-waw-bc-ko. 

liold — O-zaw-waw-sho-neali. 

Silver — Sho-ncnh. 

('opper — Mis-kwaw-beck. 

Lead — ()s-ke-ko-maung. 

Iron — Pc-vvaw-bot'k. 

[Jrass — O-saw-wavv-bock. 

Pewter — Waw-bush-ke-ko-niah. 

Birth — Mah-chees-kuii!.  pr-mah-tc-se-win. 

Death — Skwaw-be-niiih-te-rtc-win. 

Love — Mccn  ort-noen-de-win. 

Hatred — Slieen-ga-neen-dc-win. 

Marriage — We-to-kun-de-win. 

Hunger — Buk-kud-da-win. 

Blacking,  or  fasting — Muk-kud-da  ka-win. 

Sickness — Ah-koo-so-\viii. 

Pain — Suc-knm-niun-dum-nio-win. 


\'    \ 


**•■"•■!• 


1 


WORDS  AND    PHRAStS. 

A  word— Ke-ke-to-win. 
Name — Ah-no-zo-win. 
Cold — Kis-se-nah-wiii. 

Heat — Ke-zhe-ta-win, 

Dampness— Shuk-kiz-ze-wiii. 

Length— Uh-kwaw-win. 

Breadth — Mun-kwut-tia-ah-wiii. 

Height,  or  tallness— Ke-no-ze-win. 

Dep'h — Keen-ween-du-mah-win. 

Shortness — Tuh-ko-ze-win. 

Circle — Waw-we-a-ah. 

Roundness — Waw-wi-a-ze-win. 

Square — Shush-shuh-wao. 

Squareness — Shush-shuh-wa-ze-win. 

A  measure — Te-bi-e-gun. 

A  hole — No-ko-na-ah. 
Calamity,  bad  /ooA— Mah-nah-bo-wa-wis. 
Harmony — Bup-pe-she-ko-way-win. 
Playfulness— Paw-pe-niz-ze-win. 
Mind — Gaun-nug-gus-ke  wa-shie. 
Trouble — Sun-nug-ge-ze-win. 
Work — Ah-no-ke-win. 
Laziness— Gitchc-mish-kc-wiu. 
Strength — Mus-kaw-we-ze-win. 
Shape — E-zhe-ke-win. 

Breath— Puk-ke-tah-nah-mo-wiii. 
Sleep — Ne-pah-win. 
A  person — Ah-wc-ah. 
A  thing — Ka-go-shis. 
Nothing — Kah-ka-go. 
\oisp — Be-giz.ze-win. 
A  shriek — We-suk-wa-win. 
Howling — Wah-o-no-wiii. 
Voice — IVIus-sc-tah-goo-so-win. 
White  (animafo)— Waw-biz-zo. 
White  (in)— Wttw-bish-kaw. 
Black— Muk-kud-da-waw 
Red — Mia-kwaw. 

niup— Mr-zhiih-kwod-oong ;  a-zhc-nali.guwt,  like  the  sky. 


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402 


Words  and  phrases. 


Yellow — 0-saw-waw. 

Green — 0-saw-wus-kwaw. 

Great — Mit-chaw,  animate. 

Greater — Nah-wud  mit-chaw. 

Greatest — Mi-ah-mo  mit-chaw. 

Small — Ah-gah-saw. 

Smaller — Nah-wiij  ah-gah-saw. 

Smallest — Mi-ah-ma  ah-gah-saw. 

Strong — Soang-gun  [tough.] 

Hard — Mush-kaw-waw. 

Heavy — Ko-so-gwun. 

Light — Nahn-gun. 

High — Ish-pah. 

Low — Tup-pus-sali. 

Damp — Tip-pah. 

Thick — Kip-pug-gah,  as  a  board. 

Thick — Pus-sug-gwaw-gum-mc,  tiiick  as  mush. 

Thick — Kip-pug-ge-gut,  as  cloth. 

Thick — Kip-pug-ga-big-gut,  as  iron. 

Sharp — Kc-nah. 

Weak — Sha-wiz-ze. 

Brave — Soan-go-ta-ha ;  strong  hearted' 

Brave — Mahn-go-ta-sir  ;  loon  heart. 

Coward — Shah-go-ta-a ;  wnak  heart. 

Old— Kc-kaw. 

Young — 0-skc-nc-ge. 

Good — 0-nish-c-shin. 

Bad — Mah-nah-tiit,  inanimate. 

Bad — Mah-nah-diz-zc,  animate. 

Wicked — Mutchr-e-pe-wa-tize. 

Handsome — Kwo-nahdj. 

Ugly — Mah-nah-diz-zr. 

Healthy — Me-no-pc-mali-diz-zo. 

Sick — Ah-koo-zc. 

Alive — Pe-mah-diz-zp. 

Dead — Ne-po. 

Sensible — Ne-hwaw-kah. 

Cunning — Kuk-ki-a-ne-zc. 

Foolish — Kc-pah-tc-zc. 


\      V 


WORDS  AM)    PHRASES. 


^103 


Happy — Pan-pin-an-nf'-ino, 

<:ool— Tuk-ka-yah. 

Cold — Kis-se-nah. 

Warm — Ke-zho-ze,  animate;  Ke-zlio-yah,  inanimate. 

Hot — Ke-zliaut-la. 

Thirsty — Kos-kun-nah-pah-kwa. 

Hungry — Biik-kut-ta. 

First — Neet-tum,  [wy-aizsh-kut.] 

Second — A-ko-ncc-shink. 

Long — Keen-waw  ;  keen-waizh,  long  in  time. 

Wide — Mun-gut-ta-yah. 

Deep — Kecn-ween-di;m-mo,  [as  water.^^ 

I — Neen. 

Thou — Keen. 

He — Ween. 

She— Ween. 

It— E-cu. 

We — Neen-ah-wind,  (excluding  tlie  person  addressed.) 

We — Keen-ah-wind,  (including  the  person  addressed.) 

They — E-gicu,  or,  ween-ah-wa\v. 

Them — E-gieu,  [to  persons ;]  e-nieu,  [to  things.] 

My — Our,      > 

Thy-Yuur,  1 

His-Tluir,  ftN^""^-! 

Its,  J 

That — E-eu,  animate.    That — Wah-ow,  inanimate. 

This — Mahn-dun,  or,  O-o,  [to  tilings.] 

This — Wah-ow,  or  Mah-buni,  [to  persons,] 

This  person — Mah-bum,  if  near. 

This  person — Ah-\vch,  if  far  off. 

These — Ah-noon-dah,  if  near. 

These — An-ne-\veh,  if  tar  off. 

Who  — Wa-nain. 

Whirli — Tah-n«'cn-»'-tMi. 

Holh — I-erzhe. 

Either — Wa-go-to-invaiii. 

Other— 1  .None.]  ah-ne-\ve.  [nearly.  ] 

.\11 — Kok-lvin-iMili. 

Many — Bah-li-eeni. 


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WOKDS  AND   PHBASKS. 


Cr 


Much — Ne-be-\va\\. 

Few — Pun-gc. 

A  little— [The  same.] 

More — Min-o-waw. 

Some — Ga-go. 

Several — Ne-be-waw. 

Where — Ah-neen-de. 

When — Ah-nuh-pe. 

Here — 0-mah. 

There — E-wid-de. 

At — [Inseparable.] 

Above — Ish-pe-ming. 

Below — Tub-bush-.shisli. 

Over — Gitche-i-e. 

Under— A-nah-mi-e-r. 

Within — Pecnj-i-p. 

IVear — Ba-sho. 

Far — Waw-saM'. 

Now — Noang-gooni. 

Soon — Wi-e-buli. 

Then — Me-ah-pc. 

Always — Mo-zhiik. 

Never — Kah-we-kaAV,  or  kaw-ween-we-kaw. 

To-day — Nong-gum-gc-zhc-guk. 

Yesterday — Pitch-e-nah-go. 

To-morrow — Waw-buiik. 

Long  ago — Shah-Hbia}i. 

Hereafter — Pon-nc-mal  i . 

Before — Bwoi. 

After — Kah-csh-kwaw. 

Once — Ah-be-ding. 

Twice — Nc-zhing. 

How — Ah-neen. 

Well — Kwi-uk,  strait. 

Ill — Kaw'gwi-nk. 

Quickly — Wa-wecb. 

Slowly — Ba-kah-diz-ze. 

Why— Ah-nish-wiu. 

With — A-i-vcesh . 


S     \ 


WORDS  AND  PHRASED. 

Without— [None.] 

From — Wain-je. 

Towards — [None.]  Ah-che-waw  ? 

Yes — Uh.     Certainly — Me-nung-ga-hah 

No — Kaw. 

If— Keesh-pin. 

And — Gi-a. 

Or— [None.] 

Also — [None.] 

Perhaps — Go-nc-mah,  or,  kah-nah-biUch. 

One — Ning-gooj-waw. 

Two — Neezh-waw. 

Three — Nis-swaM'. 

Four — Ne-win. 

Five — Nah-nuu. 

8ix — Nin-good-waw-swe. 

Seven — Neezh-waw-swo. 

Eight — Shwaw-swc. 

Nine — Shong-gus-swe. 

Ten — Me-dos-we. 

To  eat — Che-we-sin-il. 

To  be  hungry — Che-we-buk-kud-dit. 

To  drink — Che-inin-ne-kwait. 

To  walk — Che-pe-mo-sait. 

To  run — Che-pe-me-bat-toan. 

To  sit  down — Che-nam-mad-a-bit.* 

To  lie  down — ^^Che-ahin-ge-skink. 

To  stand — Che-ne-bo-wit. 


:( 


1'  I ' 


♦  Lemattiichpin,  Del.  Zoisb.  51,  second  edition.  Pom-inis-so-wak,  (they  walk, ^ 
lb.  62.  All  these  words  here  given  as  infinitives,  have  not  a  form  and  terininn- 
tion  analogous  to  those  of  the  Dehiw.nre  infinitives,  as  given  in  Zeisbercer's 
Grammar,  but  they  resemble  very  closely  those  of  the  Masnachusetts  languaue, 
as  represented  by  .Mr.  Elliot.  Infmitives  ai)p<'ar  not  to  be  used  with  creat  fti'- 
qupncy  by  the  C'hipjH-ways ;  some  examples,  however,  occur,  in  which  we  can 
scarce  suppose  ourselves  mistaken  res|K'cting  the  ukkkI  of  the  verb  ;  such  as  this, 
n'rioan-do-rcaw  a-ne-moosc-mc-gid,  (1  hear  a  doi;  bark.)  Thi;  |iri'|K)sition  to  a|)- 
prars  to  have  no  other  signification  than  our  to,  with  infinitives,  their  lornl  lasc, 
as  it  has  been  called,  allbrding  a  substitute  tor  it,  in  nil  cases  where  we  should 
prelix  to  to  a  substantive,  as,  to  the  house,  to  the  town,  to  the  subntantire,  &c.  if 
ihey  had  any  such  words. 


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400 


UOKU^  AND    FIlKA^ErJ. 


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To  stay— Cha-ah-bit.* 

To  dance — Cha-ne-mit. 

To  go — -Cha-mah-chaht 

To  come — Cha-tah-ko-shink. 

To  ride — Che-me-zhug-gaut. 

To  ride — Che-pe-mah-bi-o-goat. 

To  hunt — Che-ke-o-sait. 

To  light — Che-me-kvva-zoat. 

To  sinoke — Che-sug-gus-swawt. 

To  sing—  Che-nug-gah-moat. 

To  smoke — Che-been-dah-kwait. 

To  sleep — Che-ne-baht. 

To  die — Che-ne-botc. 

To  say-  -Che-c-ke-doat. 

To  speak — Chc-keke-doat. 

To  treat — Clic-to-to-\vaut. 

To  marry — Che~\ve-wil. 

To  think — Clie-nain-dunk. 

To  know — Che-ke-ken-dunk. 

To  wish — [This  is  not  a  regular  verb,  in  the  Ottawwaw.] 

To  see — Che-wau-bit. 

To  hear — Che-non-dunk. 

To  taste — Che-ko-tun-dunk. 

To  smell — Che-me-iion-dunk. 

To  tou  ;h — Che-tahn-je-nunk. 

To  love — Che-san-gi-unk. 

To  hate — Che-shiii-ga-ne-maut. 

To  kill— Che-nis-saut. 


>  Is/ 


♦  The  final  f  in  mnny  of  Ihrsp  words  would,  to  many,  appear  more  closely  tf 
rosemhle  our  consoniint  sound  d ;  but  so  iinstoady  is  the  praelice  of  the  Indians 
themselves  in  this  particular,  that  the  ear  must  be  far  nicer  than  ordinary,  that 
can  distintruish,  in  the  language  of  the  best  speakers,  any  steady  and  invarialilr 
usage  in  pronouncing  the  sauie  word.  It  is  allowable,  in  attempting  to  give  a 
written  form  fo  any  language,  to  (le<'ide  a  little  arbitrarily  in  sucli  cases.  We 
may,  perhaps,  have  been  inthicnced  to  give  preference,  in  some  instances,  to  the 
«ound  of/,  ns  the  terminati(m  for  this  mood,  by  the  example  of  Mr.  Elliot,  whu 
steadily  gives  it  in  the  infinitive  forms  of  the  iVIassac.husetts  dialect ;  and  wc  are 
convinced  that  no  f^hippway  vvill  ever  mistake  any  word,  on  account  of  its 
having  the  final  sound  f,  instead  of  il.  They  are,  in  the  main,  fwrfectly  inter- 
I  linngeable. 


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Jar  more  clost^ly  tu 
L'ticc  of  the  Indians 
than  ordinary,  th;tl 
eady  and  iiivartalilr 
ttrin|)tiii<j  to  give  a 
in  such  cases.  We 
ne  instances,  to  the 
of  Mr.  Elliot,  whi> 
dialect ;  and  we  an? 
I,  on  account  of  its 
lain,  perfectly  inter- 


WORDS  AND  PHRASES. 

To  scalp — Chc-mah-miz-zhwaut. 

To  give — Che-me-naut. 

To  take — Che-o-tau-pe-naiit. 

To  bring — Che-bc-naut. 

To  carry — Che-mah-che-naht. 

To  cut — Che-kis-ke-shunk. 

To  stick — Che-wa-po-to-waut 

To  plant — Chc-ke-te-gait, 

To  burn — Cbe-chau-ge-zung. 

To  bury — Che-ning-wo-waut 

To  sow — Che-kus-ke-gaw-saut, 

To  blow — Che-pe-me-bo-tote. 

To  hide — Che-guk-ket-tote. 

To  cook — Che-che-bah-kwait. 

To  melt — Che-nin-ge-taik. 

To  subdue — Che-muk-dwait. 

To  have — Cho-iaht. 

To  be— Che-iaht. 

He  is — Ween-sah. 

I  am — Neen-sah. 

I  am  cold — Neen-ge-kudj. 

I  am  warm — Ncen-ge-zlio-sp. 

I  am  young — Neen-do-ske-neeg 

I  am  old — Neen-ge-kaw. 

I  am  good — Ne-meen-no-zhe-wa-bis. 

r  am  strong — Ne-mush-kaw-wees. 

I  am  hungry — Ne-buk-kud-da. 

I  am  sick — Neen-dah-kooz. 

It  rains — Ke-me-wun. 

It  is  cold — Kis-sc-nab. 

Go — Mah-jon. 

Stay — Ah-biu. 

Bring — Pe-toan. 

Give — Meczh. 

Give  me — Me-zhc-shin. 

Take  him — O-tah-pin. 

Take  It— O-hih-pc-nuii. 

lledrinVs — Wcen-min-nc-kwa. 

Ho  runs— Ween-pc-me-bat-to. 


407 


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WORUfi  AND  PHRASES. 


He  singrf — Wcon-mig-gah-mo. 

I  sing — Necn-nug-gah-mo. 

We  eat — Wc-sin-iu\ 

I  eat — Ne-wee-sin. 

I  came— Neen-ge-tuh-koo-shiii. 

He  came — Ween-ge-tuh-koo-shin. 

We  came — Neen-ge-tuh-koo-shin-noain. 

I  have  eat — Nc-kc-we-sin. 

Thou  hast  eat — Ke-ke-we-sin. 

He  has  eat — O-ke-we-sinne. 

He  saw — 0-ke-\vaw-bo-maun. 

He  is  dead — Ween-ke-ne-bo. 

He  has  been  seen — Ke-waw-bo-maw. 

He  shall  speak — Oan-jit-tah  kah-ge-e-ke-to,  (I  make.) 

He  shall  go — Oan-jit-tah  tah-mah-jah,  (I  make,  &c.) 

He  may  go — Tah-mah-jah. 

We  may  go — Tah-mah-jah-men. 

This  dog — Maw-buh-an-ne-moosh. 

These  dogs — Ah-goon-dah-an-ne-moag. 

This  is  mine — Neen-een-di-eem,  [mine  it  remains.] 

That  is  thine — Keen-ke-ti-eme,  [it  belongs  to  thee.] 

Whose  dog  is  this  ? — Wha-nain-\vha-ti-et  f 

What  is  thy  name? — Ah-neen-a-zhe-ne-kah-so-yun. 

What  do  you  call  this? — Ah-neen-s-zhe-ne-kah-dah-mun? 

To  whom  shall  he  speak  ? — 0-wa-na-nan  ka-kun-no-nah-jit  ? 

Which  of  us  shall  go  ? — O-wa-nain  ka-e-shaut  ? 

Who  shall  go  ? — Tah-neen-a-ow-ka-e-shaut  ? 

Either  of  us  shall  go — Ne-got-wa-hi-ao  o-tai-a-shoii. 

Who  saw  these  ? — Wa-ne-wi-ah-bo-mik  ? 

He — Ween. 

My  father — Nos-a. 

My  brother — Ne-kau-nis ;  n'dah-wa-mah,  by  the  women. 

Elder — Nesiah. 

Younger — Nc-she-ma. 

My  sister — N'dah-wa-mah. 

Elder — Ne-mis-sah. 

Younger — Ne-she-mah. 

My  son — Ne-gwis. 

Mv  daughter — Ne-dan-nis. 


^  ;v 


W  (i[tl<<   AS1»    f'HKASKs. 


40\i 


dike.) 
fcc.) 


s.] 
ee.] 

un. 
ah-mua? 
no-nah-jit  ? 


hon. 


e  women. 


My  child — Xe-(Mi-ja]i-ni«!. 

My  head — Ne-o-stc-gwon. 

My  feet — Ne-o-zit-turi. 

My  dog — Neen-di. 

My  shoes — Ne-muk-ke-zin-nuu. 

I  saw  yoM — Nee-ke-waw-bo-min, 

1  love  you — Ke-zaw-ge-in ;  to  a  woman  only,  ne-ma-ae-ne- 
min. 

I  will  marry  thee,  [a  man  to  a  woman] — Ncen-gali-we-te-ga- 
mah  ;  [a  woman  to  a  man,]  kuh-we-te-ge-min. 

He  is  taller  than  me — Nah-wudj-ween  ke-nose-a-ko-zeauu. 

He  is  a  stranger  in  the  village — Mi-ah-raah-mush-kaw-e-zeet 
o-da-nin-nong. 

My  wife  is  called  handsomer — Ne-wish  nah-wuj  kwo-nahj  a- 
zhe-nah-ko-zi-ian. 

Your  wife  is  younger  than  mine — Ke-wis  nah-wudj  os-ke  ne-ge 
neen-a-pe-te-zit. 

My  brother  is  with  his  wife — Ne-kaun-nis  o-we-je-waun  we.- 
wmi. 

My  hatchet  is  in  there — Ne-waw-gaw-kwut-peen-dig  at-ta. 

Where  is  he? — To-ne-e-peezh  at-taik? 

I  am  here — Maun-di-pe  een-di-ah. 

I  am  a  man — Een-da-nin-ne-ne-ew. 

I  am  a  good  man — Ne-min-no  a-nin-ew. 

Thou  art  a  woman — Keet-e-kwa-o. 

There  is  a  God — Man-i-to  sah-iah. 

I  am  that  I  am — Neen-goo-sah-neen.* 

Ue  sings  well  — Ne-tah-nug-gah-mo. 

He  sings  ill — Kaw'nit-tah  niig-gah-mo-se. 

He  sings  slow — Se-his-kamch  e-niig-gah-mo. 

He  sings  quick — Ka-tah-tub-buh-um. 

He  sings  his  deatli  song — 0-be-mah-tiih-se-win  e-nug-gah-mo- 
t.oan. 

I  see  him — Ne-waw-bo-maw. 

I  see  a  man — E-nin-ne  ne-waw-bo-maw. 


:i 


*  Neither  i-ah  nor  goo-snh,  are  thought  to  be  the  verb 'substantive  in  these  ei- 
arnplos.     Tlio  fortncr  soems  to  approach,  in  signification,  very  closely  to  the 

Latin  liubun, 

52 


i 


■/■F   ; 


41U 


WOUDS  AND   PUKASES. 


•  .  1' 


'     lit      i       I  « 


Ml  ■    I    ' 


1 1 


tA  .i; 


I  ser  noiir  — l*a-sli()w  ii'diik-wawf*. 

I  se*  far  olT  -Was-saw  n'duk-wawb. 

lit'  cnmc  on  foot — Ke-bim-mc-to-sa. 

He  came  on  horsebark — Kr-be-pc-mom-mi-co. 

You  cam<!  on  lioiscback— Ke-ke-be-pe-mo-inik. 

lie  came  by  land — Ah-kecng  ke-pe-c-zliaw. 

lie  came  by  water — Ke-be-pe-mish-kaw-nah. 

lie  came  before  me — Ke-be-ne-kaune. 

Ho  crime  last — Skwi-ahtch  ke-t;i-koo-sIiin. 

He  came  without  me — Kaw'neen-ge-we-jc-we-goo-se. 

I  struck  him — Neen-ge-wa-po-to-waw. 

I  struck  him  with  my  foot — Neen-ge-tun-gish-ko-waw  ;  (I  kick- 
ed him.) 

I  struck  him  with  a  stone — Us-sin  neen-ge-wa-po-to-waw. 

T  stiiick  liim  with  a  hatclict — Waw-gaw-kwut  neen-ge-wa-po- 
to-waw. 

I  gave  it  to  liim — Necn-^e-me-nah. 

I  did  not  give  it  to  thee — Ka-ween-kcen  ke-ke-monis-sc-noan. 

He  gave  it  to  me — Neen-neen-gc-me-nlk. 

What  I  gave  h.iui  -Wa-go-to-gvvain  e-to-t'T-gaw-me-mik. 

What  he  gave  me — Wa-go-to-gwain  e-to-ge-gaw-me-zhit. 

And  did  he  give  it  '.o  thee  ? — Ke-ge-me-nik-in-nah  ? 

Hast  tliou  given  u  to  him? — Ke-ge-mc-nah-nah  ?  (Didst  thou 
give?) 

Wilt  thou  give  it  to  me  ? — Ke-kah-mc-shin-nah  ? 

May  I  give  it  to  liim? — Kav/-nuh  neen-dah-me-nah-se  ? 

T  wish  to  go  with  thee  anH  rutoli  his  horse — Op-pa-tus  wc-ji- 
win-naun  che-tah-ko-nuk  o-b^.  /heek-o-guh  zhe-mun. 

Give  me  some  venison  to  put  in  liis  kettle — Me-she-shin  wc- 
yos,  che-po-tah  kwi-aun  o-tah-ke-koonk. 

We  conquered  our  country  by  our  braven%  we  will  defend  it 
with  our  strength — Ne-munk-kund-wa-min  ain-dun-uk-ke-ung, 
c-zhin-ne-ne-wi-aung,  [our  manliness,]  or,  ne-m;din-go  tah-se-we- 
win-ne-naun,  [our  loon  heartedness.]  ne-kah-ko-no-ain-dah-meu 
ne-mus-kaw  wiz-ze-win-ne-naun. 

Good  morning — Me-gwaitch  wi-ah-bah-me-non ;  [I  am  glad 
to  see  you.] 

How  is  it  with  thee  ? — Tah-neen  kecn-o-waw  aiz-ziie-be-mah-tr- 


'  I 


WORDS   AM)    I'III:A.|> 


411 


w ;  (I  kick- 

ii-wa\v. 
n-ge-wa-po- 


-luri-sc-uoan. 

rie-n\ik. 
me-zlut. 

(DUImI  tlioii 


ih-sc  i 
|pa-tu3  we-ji- 

[•she-sliiii  w'f- 

Lvill  (It'ffnd  it 
In-uk-kc-unjr, 
Iro  tah-se-\vc- 
l-ain-dah-mi'ii 

|;  [I  am  glad 

ic-l)c-mali-lf- 


ze-aik  ? — [ll' two  or  moio,  ko-mc-no  bc-iiali  tc-zi -mi!:       Imw  dnsl 
lliou  live?] 

He  is  a  good  man — Mc-no-pa-mah-liz-ze  o-niii-nc. 

Dost  thou  live  well  ? — Ke-men-no-pr-inah-tiz-ze-nah  ! 

What  news  ? — Ah-hccn  ain  e-kum-me-guk  ? 

T  know  liim — Ne-ke-kcn-ne-maw. 

I  understand — Nc-ke-ken-dom  ;  [weeds  and  small  things;  of  a 
tree,  or  a  large  stone,  they  say,  ne-ke-ken-ne-maw.] 

She  is  a  good  woman — Mcn-no-pa-mah-te-se. 

It  is  a  largo  tree — Gitche-me-tik  :  [large  tree.] 

T  i^ec  it — Ne-waw-bo-maw,  if  a  man,  a  tree,  or  a  large  stone; 
Ne-waw  hun-daun,  if  inanimate,  or  a  very  small  animate  object. 

I  give  you  this  canoe — Ke-me-nin*  maun-dun  che-maun. 

Take  it — 0-tau-pe-nui.. 

I  give  you  this  deer — Ke-me-nin  maw-bidi  waw-waw-wash-gai;'. 

Take  him — 0-tau-pin, 

Givemenifat — Me-zhc-shinwe-yos;  giveorhandto me. pe-doaii. 

Give  me  that  dog — Me-zhe-shin  owan-e-moose.  , 

Bring  water — Ne-beesh  nah-din. 

Bring  tlie  prisoners — Beesh  a-wuh-kau-nug. 

This  is  my  latht-r's  canoe — No-si-ah  maun-dun  o-che-maun. 

I  gave  corn  to    my  father — Mun-dah-me-mm  necn-ge-me-nali 
noas. 

I  planted  cirn  for  my  lather — Neen-ge  ke-tc-go-waw  noa^. 

I  lov(!  my  father — Ne-sah-ge-ah  noas. 

I   took  corn  from  my  father — Neen-ge  o-tah-i^e-nun-no-waw 
noas  muii-dah-miii. 

1  came  with  my  father — Ne-j)e-we  je-wa\v  noas.    [I  accompa- 
Tiied  my  father.) 

I  saw  a  deer — Neen-ge-waw-bo-mo  waw-wash-gais. 

I    saw    two    deer — Neesh-waw-wash-gais-e-w\ig    ne-waw-bo- 
maig. 

I  killed  a  deer — Waw-wasli-gais  neen-ge-ne-sali. 

I  killed  him  with  my  hatchet — Ne-waw-gaw-kwut-ne-ke  oon- 
jin-nee-sah. 

I  took   the   skin   from   the  deer — Neen-ge  puk-ko-nah,  (if  lie 
saved  the  meat;)  neen-ge-gitche  ke-zwo-ah,  (iflK-  tlircw  it  awav.^ 

*  Oemifeleii,  DpI.  Z<mI>.  t?(l  cil.  ]i.  K. 


9 


.::JiHLS-,J^^~Sii^::;::^-^^ 


y..>' 


11 J 


WORKS   AND    I'H RASES.. 


"     ,."1 


i '  Hi 


I 


■  f ,  I 


^''  ■ 


1;  -ifl  . 


<:O.N.ITKiA'nO\    OF    A    VERB. 

To  tie — Tali-ko-pi telle  ga-\viiig.* 

'I'lc  him — Tali-ko-pisli. 

Tic  them — Tah-Uo-bish  ah-oic\v. 

1  tie — N'tah-ko-pe-toon, 

Thou  tieet — Ke-ta-ko-pc-toon  in-a-niin. 

lie  ties — O-tah-ko-pc-toon. 

AVe  (two)  tie — Neon-tlali-ko-pc-do-men. 

We  tie — (The  same.) 

You  (two)  tic — Ke-tali-ko-pe-toan-ah-waM  . 

They  tie — 0-tiih-ko-pe-toan-ah-waM-, 

lie  ties  me — Necn-dah-ko-bc-nik. 

lie  lies  tliee — Kc-tali-ko-bc-nik. 

He  ties  hina — 0-tah-ko-be-uaun. 

He  ties  her — (The  same.) 

He  ties  us  (two) — Ke-tali-ko-be-nik  o-ijauu. 

He  ties  U8  (all) — (The  same.) 

He  ties  you  (tAVo) — Ke-tah-ko-be-nik-o-waw. 

He  ties  you  (all) — (Tlie  same.) 

He  ties  them — 0-tah-ko-bin-naun. 

They  tie  me — Ne-dah-ko-bin-ne-goag. 

They  tie  thee — Ke-tah-ko-bin-ne-goag. 

They  tie  him — O-tah-ko-bin-ah-wauii. 

*  Tah-ko-bitche-gun,  (prisoner  string,)  7*a/*-A-o-6i7c/)^-g-u)i-Mn,  (prisoner  strings,  j 
These  cords  arc  mode  of  the  burk  of  the  elm  tree,  by  boiling,  and  then  immeniing 
it  in  cold  water ;  they  are  from  twenty-five  to  fifty  feet  in  length,  and  though  less 
than  half  an  inch  in  diametar,  strong  encuj,'li  to  hold  tlic  stijutest  man.  They  are 
rommonly  ornamented  with  porcupine  quills  ;  and  ne-bcui-kiin-a-giin-iiti,  or  rattles 
are  attached  at  each  end,  not  only  for  ornjiment,  but  to  give  notice  of  any  attempt 
the  prisoner  may  make  to  escape.  The  leader  of  a  war-{«rty  commonly  carries 
several  Tah-ko-bitrhe-ffun-un's  tastened  about  his  waist,  and,  if  in  the  course 
of  the  fight  any  one  of  his  young  men  takes  a  prisoner,  it  is  l>i.s  duty  to  bring  hun 
immediately  to  the  chief,  to  be  tietl,  ajid  the  latter  is  responsible  for  his  safekeeping. 


nORllS    AND    l'URASl>. 

They  tie  licr — (The  same.) 

They  tic  us  (two) — Kc-tah-ko-biii-ne-ko-nah-nik. 

They  tie  us  (all) — (The  same.) 

They  tie  you  (two) — Ke-tah-ko-bin-uc-go-waus;. 

They  tie  you  (all)— (The  same.) 

They  tie  them — 0-tah-ko-bin-nah-Avaun,  (the  same  as  one.) 

1  tie  thee — Kc-tah-ko-be-nin. 

I  tie  him — Neeu-(lah-ko-be-naun. 

I  lie  you  (two) — Ke-tah-ko-be-ne-nim. 

1  tic  you  (all) — (Tlie  same.) 

I  tie  them — Ncen-ilah-ko-be-naug. 

We  (two)  tie  thee — Ke-tah-ko-biu-ne  ne-nin-ne-min. 

We  (two)  tie  him — Ne-dah-ko-bc  nah-naun. 

We  (two)  tie  you  (two) — Ke-tah-ko-bin-»c  nin-ne-min. 

We  (two)  tic  you  (all) — (The  same.) 

We  (all)  tie  them — Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-nah-nik. 

Thou  tiest  me — Ke-tah-ko-bish. 

Thou  tiest  him — Ke-tah-ko-bin-nali. 

Thou  tiest  us  (two) — Ke-tah-ko-bish-e-min. 

Thou  tiest  us  (all) — (The  same.) 

Thou  tiest  them — Ke-tah-ko-bin-iiaug. 

We  (all)  tie  thee — Ke-tah-ko-be-nin-ne-min. 

We  (all)  tie  him — Neen-dali-ko-bin-nah-naun. 

We  (all)  tie  you  (two) — Ke-tah-ko-bin-nun-ne-m'm. 

We  (all)  tie  you  (all)— (The  same.) 

You  (two)  tie  me — Kc-tah-ko-biz-zhim. 

You  (two)  tie  him — Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waw. 

You  (two)  tie  us  (two) — Ke-tah-ko  biz-zhe-min. 

You  (two)  tie  us  (all) — (The  same.) 

You  (two)  tie  them — Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-wau(<^. 

You  (two)  tie  me — Ke-tah-ko-bc-zhim. 

You  (all)  tie  him — Ke-tah-ko-bin-ali-waw. 

You  (all)  tie  us — Kc-tah-ko-biz-zhe-min. 

You  (all)  tie  them — Ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waug. 

He  has  tied  us — Een-ge-tah  ko-bin-ne-ko-nahn. 

He  has  tied  thee — Ke-ke-tah-ko-be-nik. 

He  has  tied  him — O-ke-tah-ko-be-nahn. 

He  has  tied  us  (two) — Een-ge-tah-ko-biii-ne-ko-nahn. 

He  has  tied  ua  (all) — (The  same.) 


ii:{ 


Ui      I 


lit'T* 


rrtJt,r^'i«<r>? 


:.mi''m>i'--iai,i.«A. 


m,ii 


..  I' 


M  r 


1 1 


>  I 


if'!  I  •■;  -I 


-im 


^r' 


n 


414 


WOltliS    AM)     I'URASI'.S. 


He  has  tied  yon  (two) — Ke-ko-iali-ko  be-nik-o-\vaw. 

He  has  lied  you  (all) — (Thf  same.) 

IIo  has  lied  them — O-ke-tah-ko-bc-naun. 

They  liavr  tied  me — Necu-jre-tah  ko-bin-ne-goag. 

They  have  ti»;il  him — ()-k<;-tah-ko-bin-nah-vvauii. 

They  have  tied  us  (two) — Ke-g(;-tali-ko-bin-nik  o-nali-nik,  or, 
neeu-ge,  il'a  tliird  person  is  addressed. 

They  have  tied  us  (all) — (The  same.) 

They  have  tied  you  (two) — Ke-kc-tah-ko-bin-nih-o-waug. 

They  have  tied  you  (all)— (The  same.) 

They  have  tied  them — ()-ke-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun. 

I  have  tied  hiui — Necn-ge-tah-ko-biu-nah. 

1  have  tied  them — Neen-gp-lah~ko-bin-nahg. 

Thou  hast  tied  mo — Ko-ke-l;di-ko-bish. 

Thou  hast  tied  him — Ke-ke-tah-ko-bc-nah. 

Thou  iuist  tied  us  (two) — Ke-ke-tal\-ko-biz-zhe-min. 

Thou  has  tied  us  (all) — (Th(r  same.) 

Thou  hast  tied  them — Ke-ke-tali-ko-be-nahg. 

We  have  tied  hiu) — Neen-ge-tah  ko-l)C-nah-nahn. 

We  (ail)  have  tied  him— (The  sauie.) 

You  (two)  have  tied  him — Ke-lah-ko-!)e-nah-vvaw. 

\o\}  (all)  have  tied  him— (The  sauie.) 

He  will  tie  me~--Neeri-gali-lah-ko-be-Mik. 

Me  will  tie  thee — Ke-gah-lali-ko-be-»ik. 

Ife  will  tie  him — O-gah-lah-ko-bc-Mahn. 

lie  will  tie  us  (all) — Ke-gah-tah-ko-be-nik-aii-nahM,  to  the  se- 
coiul  person;  to  a  third,  Niu-gali-tali-ko-biu-uik-iih-iiuhu. 

lie  will  lie  llu'm — O-kah-tiih-ko-bf-iialui. 

They  will  tie  nu' — NeeM-gah-lah-ko-bin-iie-goag. 

They  will  tie  thee — Ke-gHh-tuh-ko-biu-ue-unag. 

The  y  will  tie  him — (>-gah-tah-go-hiu-iiah-wauu. 

They  will  tie  us  (two) — Ke-gah-lah-ko-bin-ne-ko-nnh-nik.  to 
the  second  person. 

Tliey  will  lie  you  (two) — Ke-gah-lah-ko-bin-ue-ko-wauff. 

They  will  lie  them — O-gali-tali-ko-biii-iiah-waun. 

I  will  lie  him  -  \een-nah-tah-ko-bin-iiah. 

I  will  lie  them    -  Neeii-<jali-lah-ko-biu-ualig. 

Thou  will  tie  me — K«-iiali-lali-ko-liisli. 

Thnu  will  lie  him  — Ke-<!ah-lith-ko  !n'-iuih. 


I  » 


'■) 


0-nah-nik,  or, 


ihii,  to  the  s»; 


-ko-iiali-iiik,  to 


WOKUS    AMI    I'lntAS!.-. 


11. -> 


Thou  wilt  tiu  them — Ki!-g;ih-tah-ko-i)c-iialii). 

Wo  (two)  will  tie  iiiiu — Net'u-gah-tah-ko-be-nali-iuihn,  to  tlie 


ihinl 


person. 


We  (all)  will  tie  him— (The  same.) 

You  (tw(»)  will  tie  him — Ke-irah-tah-ko-he-iiali-nahn. 

You  (all)  will  tie  him — (The  same;.) 

I  would  lie  thee — Ke-tah-tah-ko-bc-nin. 

I  would  tie  him — Neen-dah-lah-ko-he-nah. 

I  would  tie  Ihem — Neen-dah-tah-ko-he-nah^ 

He  Mduld  li»'  thee — Ke-tah-tah-ko-he-nik. 

He  would  tie  liim — ()-dah-lah-ko-ho-nahn. 

He  would  tie  them — (The  same.) 

1  mijiht  tie  thee — Tali-kc-he-nin-naun. 

T  miirht  tie  him — Tah-ko-he-nuff. 

I  mioht  lie  iliem — Tah-ko-hin-iiiiir-waw. 

He  mi<rht  tie  thee — Tah-ko-bin-naut. 

He  mig;ht  tie  them — (The  same.) 

I  oujxht  to  lie  thee — Tah-ko-hiii-iie-n-iiim-bahii. 

I  ouirht  to  tie  him— 'l'ah-ko-l)iii-iiUL>^-ir<'-l>im. 

He  ouj^ht  to  tie  ihee — Tah-ko-I)i»-iiil<-e-l)un. 

He  ought  to  tic  them — Tah-ko-bin-uut-waw-bnii. 

Thai  I  may  tie  thee — Go-mah-tah-ko-be-niii-ualm. 

That  F  mav  lie  him — (lo-mah-t-ili-ko-liin-iuik. 

Thai  I  may  lie  them — (lo-mah-tah-ko-hin-mik-waw. 

That  he  may  lie  thee — CJo-mah-tali-ko-be-'/iiil. 

That  he  may  tie  him — (;o-mah-weeii-tah-ko-l)e-iialit. 

That  lii'  may  lie  then» — (The  sauie.) 

Il'[  lie  thee    •Tah-ki>-liiiii)e-nH\m. 

If  I  li(  him  -Tah-ko-be-ni):r. 

HI  lie  ihem  - -Tah-ko-he-nujf-waw. 

Jl'  lie  lie  thee    -Tah-ko-be-uik-e-huii. 

iriie  lie  him   -Tali-ko-l"-naii-|>iiii. 

If  he  lie  ihetri  — (The  same.) 

I  make  ihee  tie  ihem — Ooii-jil  lah  ki'-kah-iali-ko-bin-nahi'. 

I  make  him  tie  them — Ooii-jil-lah  o-kah-tah-Ko-he  iiaiin. 

I  i.mke  them  lie  thee — Ooii-jit-tah  ke-kah-lah-ko-biii-Me-mtge. 


ii 


e  ma 


kr'-i  me    lie  them — Ne-kith-!jan-/.o-niel\,   tah-ko-he-niii;- 


<va\v. 


He  doe-  Mill  lie  me — Kaw 'in  t  u-(|iih-ki)-bili-Ui'-ko-de 


1 


!i,     i 


^! 


I 


I 
\ 


t! 


i 


JC^ 


Li 


'^jM****. 


f 

f! 

1 

r 

f1 

■  t 

f 

4 

■} 

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t 

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4J(i 


\JUi!liS    A.NU    JMIRASE' 


He  does  nut  tie  thee — Kaw'kc-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-se. 

He  does  not  tie  him — Kaw'o-tah-ko-bin-nah-zeen. 

They  do  not  tie  me — Kaw'neen-dali-bo-bin-ne-ko-t^eeg. 

They  do  not  tie  him — Kaw'o-tah-ko-bin-nah-se-waun. 

He  has  not  tied  me — Kaw'necn-ge-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-se. 

He  will  not  tie  mc — Kaw-ween  nini-gah-tah-ko-bin-ne-ko-ze. 

He  shall  not  tie  me — Kaw-pau-pish  neen-dah-tuh-ko-bin-ne- 
ko-se. 

Tliat  he  mav  not  tie  me — (la-mah-tah-ko-biz-zhe-sik. 

It' he  does  not  tie  thee — Tah-ko-be-nis-se-nook. 

I  will  make  him  tie  you — Oon-jit-tah  ke-kah-tuh-ko-be-nik. 

I  will  not  make  him  tie  thee — Kaw'ne-kah-guh-gaw-zo-mah-sc 
jit-tah-ko-be-nik. 

He  made  me  tie  thee — Ne-kc-gah-gau-zo-mik  ke-chah-tah-ko- 
be-nc-naun. 

He  did  not  make  me  tie  thee — Kaw'necge-c-go-so  jit-tah-ko 
be-ne-nann. 

I  am  tied — Necn-dah-ko-bees. 

Thou  art  lioel — Ke-tah-ko-bees. 

He  is  tied — Tah-ko-biz-zo. 

We  (two)  are  tied — Kc-tah-ko-biz-zo-min  ;  to  the  second  per- 
son, nec-dah-ko-biz-zo-min. 

We  (all)  are  lied— (The  same.) 

You  (two)  are  tied — Ke-tah-ko-biz-zoom. 

You  (all)  are  tied — (The  same.) 

They  are  tied — Tah-ko-biz-zo-wug. 

I  was  tied — Een-jre-tah-ko-bis. 

I  was  tied  by  thee — Kcen-gah  oon-je-lah-ko-biz-zo-yahn. 

I  was  tied  by  him — Ween-gah  oon-je-tah-ko-biz-zo-yahn. 

He  shall  be  tied — Oon-jit-tah  tah-tah-ko-be-zon. 

That  he  may  be  tied — Knf-tah  tah-ko-be-zo. 

I  am  not  lied — Kaw'n'dah-ko-biz-zo-ze, 

Me  is  ni»t  tied — Kaw'tah-ko-biz-zo-ze. 

1  was  not  tied — Kaw'ne-ke-tah-ko-biz-zo-ze. 

He  shall  not  be  tied — Kaw'tah  tah-ko-biz-zo*ze. 

He  who  is  tying  thee — Ai-neen  n-piz-zoi-un. 

We  tie  earh  other     Mah-ma-ash-kot('  gnh-tah-ko-bin-mMe-min. 

Yon  tie  earh  iilher — Mah-ma-ash-kote  tah-ko-bin-ne-tik. 

'I'ln-y  tie  one  another — Tah-ko-bin-ne-te-\v«g. 


\ 


1-ko-be-nik. 
raw-zo-mah-sc 

B-chah-lah-ko- 

)-90  jit-tah-ko 


WORDS    AND    PHRAStS, 

I  tie  myself— N'taIi-l;o-bin-ne-tis. 
He  ties  himself— Tn    -ko-bin-ne-liz-/o. 
We  tie  ourselves— Nind-dah-ko-bin-ne-tiz-zo-miii. 
They  tie  themselves— Tah-ko-bin-ne-tiz-zo-wug. 
Does  he  tie  thee  ?— Ke-tah-ko-bin-nik-in-nah  ? 
Has  he  tied  thee  ?— Ke-ke-tah-ko-bin-nik-in-nah  ? 
Shall  he  tie  thee  ?— Kc-kah-tah  ko-be-nik-in-nah  ? 
Do  they  tie  him  ?— O-tah-ho-bin-ntth-waun-iu-nah  ? 
Have  they  tied  him  ?— 0-ke-tuh-ko-bin-nah-waun-in-nah  ? 
Will  they  tie  him  ?--0-we-tah-ko-bin-nah-waun-in-nah  ? 
Shall  I  tie  them  ?— Een-gah-tah-ko-biii-nahg-in-nah  ? 
Wilt  thou  tie  them  ?--Ke-kah-tah-ko-bin-nahg-in-nah  ? 
Will  thou  tie  him  ?— Ke-kah-tah-ko-bin-nahn-nah  ? 

53 


n: 


« 


/ 


418 


LORD  S  PRAYER. 


■;'l 


!  ■      '    I    Vl 


LURD  S  PKAVER,  IN  UJ1BB£VVAV   AND   £NUL1SH. 

Ko-se-naun,  (our  Fallicr,)  o-wa-uain,  (wlio,)  ish-pe-miiig, 
(above,)  ain-daut,  (livctli,)  mah-no-ti  esh-shc-wa-but,  (what  you 
wish  to  be  done,)  wah-e-she  wu-bc-to-e-yun,  (let  it  be  done,) 
Kaw-taw-i)a\v-pish  zhin-dah-zecm,  (let  us  not  play  with  thy 
name,)  mah-no-be-zhe  .ah-zhi-yun  nah-gah-muk  sa-ne-guk,  (let 
thy  great  power  come,)  nie-zhe-shin-naung  ka-nie-je-yaun  nong- 
goom  ge-zlie-gut,  (give  us  our  food  this  day,)  nnie-zhe-shin-naung 
o-ma-ze-naw-o-inon-aung,  (give  us  our  debts,)  a-zhe-ko-te-bali- 
juah-tink,  (as  we  give  our  debtors,)  Ka-go  e-zhe-wizh-zh's,  zhe- 
kaun-gaiu  ini-ah  nah-tuk,  (do  not  lead  us  into  bad  things,)  kun- 
no-wa-no  misii-she-naung  nii-ali-nah-tuk,  (keej)  us  from  bad 
things,)  naw-gau-no-zit  ta-ba*ne-mut  (power  belongs  to  thee,) 
giamash-kaw-e-zcet,  (and  strength,)  kau-giu-neek,  (forever.) 


i  .* 


I'h 


l\ 


J.OKD  S  PKAVER,    IN  OJIBBDWAV. 

Kosenaun  ovvanain  islipeniing  aindaut  mahnoti  eshshewabui 
waheshewabetooyun  kawtawpawpish  zhindahzhecm  mahnobeziic 
nahzliiyun  nalinahmuk  sanoouk  inezhesliinnaunir,  kaniejcyaim 
nonggooni  gezheirut  niezhesliinnaunjr  omazenawonionaung  azlic- 
kotebahmahtink  ;  Kago  czhewizhzhis  zhekaunoain  iniahnahtuk  ; 
kuiinowano  mishahenaung  niiahnalitiik  ;  nawgaunczit  tabaiipmiii 
gia  inashkawp/ccf,  kauginneek. 


ft  • 


(iMl'ARISdN. 


4\^ 


H 


•  OMPARISON    OF    THE    LANGUAUK    OF     ELLIOx's    VKKSIUN    OF    THE 
BIULE,  WITH  SOME  OF  THi:  DIAI.KCTS  OF    TlIF,  PUF.SEXT  V\\. 

Eiliit.  Oilaicuaic. 

Nc-oh-kc-oo-ook* — Me-nik    ka-ali-ko     pc-inah-tuk    ah-ke — As 

long  as  the  ground  lives, 
Oh-ke-ko-nah-kali — 0-pe-ga-tu-gonk-gia — i>Iaiiling  time  and 
Ke-pe-niiin-niun-at — O-pe-ina-niaung — gathering  tinii', 
Toh-koi-liah-kus-si-teau — Ki,s-.sc-nah-oia-ke-:>haut-ta  -  -  cold  and 

heat, 
Ne-pun-nah — Nc-bin-gia — sniiimer  and 
Pu-pon — Pe-poaii — winter, 
Ke-sii-kod-kah — Ko-zlii-kut-gia — day  anil 
\u-koii — Tib-bik-kut — night, 
Mat-ta — Kaw'-we-kaw — never 
Jeish-ah-kwoh-ta-noo — Ta-pun-iiali  lis-se-iioan — shall  coase. 

While  tlie  earth  remaineth,  r^eed  time  and  harvest,  cold  and 
hiut,  summer  and  winter,   day  and  night,  shall  not  fail.     CJeii. 

Ne-tah-tup — E-she-way-buk — Even  so 

.\ish-noh — Pa-j)a-zhik — each 

Wun-ne-gen  nia-tug — Way-nish-she-shit-mc-tik — good  tree 

Ad-tan-ne-gcn — Wain-je-ne-tah-we-jink — j)roduceth 

Wun-ne-ge-nash  niee-ehum-mu-on-gash— Mo-zhe-ka-ko-mah-jink 

— every  kind  of  food, 
(iut-inatch-tit  nia-tug — Koo-shali  niatche-me-tik — but  a  bad  tree 
Ad-tan-ne-gen  inatch-te-tuash — Na-tali-we-git — beareth 
Ml  -chit /n-inn-uii-gash — Mat-che-iiic-nuii — bad  berries. 

Kven  so  every  good  tree  bringeth  forth  good  fruit,  but  a  ror- 
rupt  tree  evil  fruit.     Matt.  vii.  17. 
Kali  o-moh-ku — (iia-pus-e-g\ve — And  he  arose, 
Kah  mnn-chu-rn  we-kit--rJia-w('-ke-wn-inink  e-zJiaw~ai\d.  to  hi:> 
house  he  went. 

*  .Mr.  Klliol  KocniA  to  hitvc  uxoH  oh-lie-oo-ool:  ns  .i  mtIi,  us  it"  lie  ImJ  wiid,  while 
ihr  oartl>  eartk'n,  or,  "  in  liic  citi'tli."  whirh  in  |)i'r!"t'i'tly  in  ai-croilniicc  with  tli« 
)irinoipl('4  of  these  diiilfclH. 


!) 

I 


r 


i 


n 


I 


"«  nM 


^^  X  :...J» 


II    II    I      l|lll  "1-fc  T^       •• 


\} 


1  i 


>  I  / 


'm  If 


• .  I' 


]:■.  ''  ['A 


420 


COMPARISON. 


And  he  arose  and  went  to  his  house.     Matt.  ix.  'i. 
Mat-ta-pish  koo-mit-tam-wus-sis-su — -Kaw-ween  ke-kah-we-wis- 

sis-se — Not  shalt  thou  wive, 
Kah-mat-ta-pishkoo-nau-mo-ni-yeu — Gia-kaw'kc-kah  o-kwis-sis- 

se — and  not  shalt  thou  son, 
A-suh'koo-taun-i-yeu — Kaw-kc-kah   o-dau-nis-sis-se — not    shalt 

thou  daughter, 
Yeu-ut-a-yeu-on-ga-nit* — Maun-di-pe  mik-ka-kum-mik-  -here  in 

the  place. 
Thou  shalt  not  take  thee  a  wife,  neither  shalt  thou  have  sons 
or  daughters  in  this  place.     Jer.  xvi.  2. 

*  These  two  examples  will  be  found,  in  almost  every  respect,  entirely  similar, 
and  they  afford  striking  instances  of  the  tendency  of  these  dialects  to  crowil 
together,  and  to  change  all  words  to  verbs.  Wurirau-vion,  in  Elliot's  Bible,  means 
a  son. 


iV      'it    rl 


I  • 


(    ! 


.,0 


TO 


v, 


C0MPAUI90N. 


421 


COMPARISON  OF   THE  LANGLAOF.  OF  SOME    VERSIONS   OF   THE 
BIBLE,    WITH  THE  OTTAWWAW  OF   THE  PRESENT   TIME. 


Of  two  existing  versions  of  the  Bible,  or  parts  of  it,  in  dialcrts 
similar  to  the  Ojibbeway,  that  of  Mr.  Elliot,  made  in  1661,  would 
be  most  easily  adapted  to  the  use  of  the  Ottawwaws  and  Ojibbr- 
ways,  in  the  country  about  the  lakes.  The  Delaware  of  Mr. 
Deuke's  version,  printed  at  New- York,  1818,  whether  owing  to 
differencs  of  orthography,  or  some  other  cause,  seems  widely  un- 
like any  of  the  Algonkin  dialects  we  have  heard  spoken.  The 
following  comparison  with  the  Ottawwaw  of  the  f^  resent  day, 
will  perhaps  scarce  aflbrd  a  single  point  of  resemblance. 

Ehoalachgik  ?  jukwe  metsclii  ktelli  wundaniemensineen  Gc- 
lauitowitink ;  schuk  neskwc  maj;iwii  elsi  jauktsch,  schuk  ktelli 
majaweten  dameneen,  nkwuttentsch  woachkw;ike  ktcllitsch  liii- 
anizeen  elinaxit  ktcllilsch  newoaneen  elinaxit. — 1  Juh/i  ill.  *^. 
Deuchc's  version. 

Sah-git-te-wun-nun !  (ye  beloved!)  gec-no-wind  ([are]  Wf) 
Gitche-Manito,  (the  great  God,)  o-gwis-sun  (iiis  sons)  kaw-ween 
(not)  ke-ke-ken-dun-se-min  (ye  understand)  ka-iz-zhe-wa-biz-zhr- 
wunk  (how  we  shall  be)  koo-shah  (but)  ke-ken-dah-min  («e 
know)  ope-che-waw-bu-muk  (when  he  appeareth)  ah-yeesh  na- 
she-nah-koo-se-min  (we  shall  resemble  him)  ke-kali-waw-bo-niaw  - 
naun  (we  shall  see  hini)a-zhe-nah-koo-/.it  (what  he  is  like.) — Ot- 
tavnvaui. 

Beloved,  now  are  we  the  sons  of  God ;  and  it  doth  not  yet  ap- 
pear what  we  shall  be,  but  we  know  that,  wiien  he  shall  appear 
we  shall  be  like  him,  for  we  shall  set;  him  as  lie  is. — E/ij^lish 
vprsion. 

The  following  are  comparisons  of  passages  from  Mr.  Elliot's 
Bible,  with  the  same  dialed. 
Elliot.  Ottamrau. 

Onk-as-kook* — Gia-ke-na-beek — And  the  snake 


I        / 


II* 


I  t 


I    ■ 


*  Many  instances  might  he  addua'd,  to  show  the  close  alHiiity  UMwci'ii  ilm 
language  of  Mr.  Elliot's  version  tf  the  Bible,  and  s(  vcral  of  the  dialect-  ot  tin;  [ip  • 


I    ! 


^rir-"Tr*t,mi  '^-•' 


4'.      i  ) 


A  J 


'I  b 


ii 


i 


is 


coMl'AKIso^. 


,'i 


m 


^i  f 


1-1 


Elliot.  OUawvaw. 

Un-ii<in — 0-ge-gah-no-naun — saul  to 
Mit-tam-ino-sis-Hoh — E-kwa-wun — the  woman, 
Mat-la — Kaw-wc(!u — not 

Woh-nup-poo-e  ke-mup-poo — 0-jit-tah-ke-kah-ne-boas* — shall 
you  die. 

And  the  serpent  said  unto  tlie  woman,  thou  shalt  not  burcly 
die. — Eng.  ver.  Gen.  iii.  4. 

[Elliot,  Cotton  Mather,  and  other  early  protcstant  divines, 
thought  it  not  best  t  •  attempt  translating  any  of  the  names  of  the 
divinity  into  the  Indian,  for  the  obvious  reason,  that  their  lan- 
guage affords  no  word  which  would  not  awake  associations  in  the 
minds  of  the  natives,  very  inconsistent  with  the  character  of  the 
true  and  holy  God.  They  thought  it  better  to  retain  the  Eng- 
lish appellations,  and  attempt  gradually  to  elevate  the  concep- 
tions of  the  Indians  to  our  standard,  than  incur  the  risk  of  per- 
})etuating  their  ideas  of  tlie  characters  attributed  to  their  deities, 
by  introducing  their  original  names  into  the  new  version  of  the 
Scriptures.] 


ll      ,-'.1    i: 


I:' 


sent  (lay.  The  trnninatioii  in  wug  is  found  among  the  Crees,  and,  as  in  thai 
transl;»tion,  it  u  used  in  speaking  of  animate  objects.  IVe-at-chim-me-nash, 
(com,)  in  the  plural  niiiiibt>r,  is  the  same  in  both,  and  the  same  forms  of  expres- 
sion; as,  No-wad-cha-num-un-neck,  {I keep  my  house,)  No-wad-cha-nuni-un-ash- 
noo-wfc-ut  cfiim-nie-nash,  (/  keep  my  corn.)  Gram.  p.  10,  precisely  analagousto 
n'ko-naAn.'dun  ncw-ke-icam.  (I  keep  my  house,)  n'ko-no-ica-ne-maug  nc-man 
ifah-min-e-jnug,  (I  keep  my  corn  of  the  harvest  day.) 

•  Ojiblieway — Me-tu.'i-uJi  gc-na-beek  a-naut  a-new-e-kwa-wun.  kaw-ween-o;o 
s'th  ke-kah-ne-boas, — C.  J. 


un,  kaw-ween-o'o 


■1 


•COMPARISON'. 


423 


( 


boas* — shall 


alt  not  burclv 


COMPARISON   OF  A  GREEK    SENTENCE  WIIH  THE  l^IALECT  OF    THE 

OTTAWWAWS. 

u\  «A^T«f5,  [The  foxes]— Wavv-goo-shug,  [foxes] 
<f*Af«i/s,  [holes]— Waw-zhe-wug,  [hole,  v.  a.] 

^AJ»«"<,  [they  possess,]— Gia-nun-nuh-ke-zhik,  [and  between  skr 
adj.] 

*«/T«  vtrufct,  [and  the  birds]— Be-nais-se-wug,  [birds] 
Tcv  cvpx,»v,  [of  heaven]— 0-wus-sis-so-ne-wug,  [nest,  v.  a.] 
««T«o.„v«o-fi«-  [nests,]— Koo-shah,  [but] 
0  ^e  i>,oi,  [the  but  son]— 0-nin-ne  o-gwis,  [man  his  son] 
rov  a,^p,o^cv,  [of  man]— Kaw'nin-goo-che,  [not  any  where] 

«vy.  exe>,  ["ot possosseth]— In-ne-kwa-shin.she,[may  liedown.l 
•srew,  [where] 

T»,»  xf^uXfi*,  [his  head] 
xAi»u,  [he  may  lay.] 

The  foxes  have  dens,  and  the  birds  of  the  ai.  have  nests,  but 
the  son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head.     Matt.  viii.  20. 


't^iamk 


i 
i 

f 

f        f 


-•^.^ 


i^witoSi"***:- 


1^'  'I  ^■■^«l  1 


i 


I  1-^:1(1': 


il 

I, 
'   I; 


I 


'(: 


!! 


t!li; 


^k  1:4 


'Hm^ 


1 1' 


IJ 


^  lit 


>  ■ 


^^ 


i'u 


TRANSLATION. 


FIRST  CHAPTER  OF    GENESIS,    TRANSLATED   INTO  THE  OJIBBEWAY 

LANGUAGE. 

1 .  Wi-azh-kut  Man-e-do  wa-zhe-toan  mahn-dun  Ge-zhik  gia 
Ak-ke. 

2.  Gia  pa-bunk  ak-ke  at-tah  go-bun  gia  kah-ga-go  at-ta-sin 
o-go-bun,  gia  tib-be-kut  o-kit-te-beeg,  gia  man-e-do  o-pug-git-to 
nah-mo-win  o-mam-mah-je-mug-gut  o-kit-te-beeg. 

3.  Man-e-do  ke-e-ke-do  to-we-was-siah ;  gia  ge-was-siali. 

4.  Gia  man-e-do  o-waw-bcn-daun  was-siah,  ge-o-nish-she-shiii 
gia  man-e-do  o-nah-nah-\vc-nahn  was-siah  gia  tib-be-kut. 

5.  Gia  ma-ne-do  o-kc-shinne-kau-taun  was-siah,  Ge-zhe-gut  gia 
tib-bik-nis-se  o-ke-shinne-kau-taun  tib-be-kut,  Gia  o-nah-koo-shig 
ke-ke-zhaib  ne-tum  kc-ge-zhe-guk. 

6.  Gia  man-c-do  kc-e-ke-do  Kut-ti  c-she-wa-bug  malm-dun 
nun-nuh  gc-zeik  nus-sow-wi-a-e  ne-bish  ush-uh-ko-taig,  gia  aut- 
tausli-ke-no-mink  c-toi'a-e,  ne-bish  e-toi-wi-a-e  git-che,  te-go-inug- 
guk  ish-pe-ming  gia-tub-bush-sliish. 

7.  Gia  nian-e-do  o-ke  o-zhe-toan  nun-nuh-ge-zhe-gut  gia  o-na- 
nah-wo-naun  ne-beesh  ish-pe-ming  gitche-tah-goak  gia  tub-busli- 
shish  gilchc-lah-goak,  me-kah-e-she-e-wa-buk. 

8.  Gia  nian-c-do  o-o-c-zhin-ne-kau-taun  nun-nuh-tic-zhik  Ge- 
/hik  a-nah-koo-zhik  Ke-ke-zhaib  wi-ah-nc-ka-ge-zhe-gut. 

9.  Gia  man-e-do  ke-e-ke-do  mahii-iUui-ne-beesh  an-nah-mi-a-e 
al-taig  tum-mah-wun  dosh-kah  ali-ke-kut  tuh-bung-wun,  me-kah 
p-zhe-wa-buk. 

10.  Gia  uian-e-do  o-ke-zliin-ne-kau-taun  ak-ke  gia  kaw-mow 
ium-dos-kaug  nc-beesh  o-ge-zhin-ne-kau-taun  Gitclie-gum-me 
gia  man-e-do  o-waw-ben-daun  o-nish-e-shing. 

11.  Gia  man-c-do  ke-c-ke-do  ak-ke  kut-ti  on-je-ne-tah-we-gin 
tne-zhus-kceii,  gia  mc-zhus-kecn  tu-e-me-ne-kau-ne-wun-nong,  gia 
inc-tig  inah-jink  wain-je-we-tali-we-gi-uk  mc-nc-kaun  rne-tig- 
goank  at-ta  on-jit-)ah-gimi-mig  me-kah  e-shc-wa-buk. 


XHANSLATIOK. 


4-4ri 


ojibbeway 


Ge-zhik  gia 

a-go  at-ta-siu 
I  o-pug-git-to 

vas-siah. 
-nish-she-sluii 
e-kut. 

ie-zhe-gut  gia 
».nah-koo-shi^ 

ug  ma1in-(Uni 
>-taig,  gia  aut- 
■  -  -go-mug- 


hc,  te- 


e-gut gia  o-na- 
gia  tub-busli- 

li->rc-/hik  (jie- 

[le-gut. 

an-nah-mi-a-e 
-wun,  me-kah 

I  gia  kaw-mow 
Jitclie-gum-mc 

l-ne-tah-we-gin 
-wun-nong,  gia 
t-kaun   mP-tig 
ik. 


12.  Gia  slii-a  ke-ne-tah  wo-gin-noan  itie-zhus-kcon  gia  ine-m* 
kaw-ne-\vun-i)oan  nio-zhuk-keen  tib-biii-iio-wa-go  zhe-iiaii-gwiii 
gia  mc-tig  me-nc-ne  kau-ne-\ve  lib-lun-no-wa  mo-iio-kau-iic-wc! 
tib-bin-no-wa  o-ltc-tab-kum-mig,  Gia  inan-c-do  o-Lrc-uaw-buii- 
daun  uz-zho  iiish-sbe-shing. 

13.  Gia  an-nah-koo-zhik  Ko-gc-zliaib  mc-nis-s\vo  go-zhc-giik- 

14.  Gia  man-e-do  ke-e-ke-do  tiih-\vc  wah-si-ahii  miii-iiuh-gi-- 
zhik  uh-ge-zhik-oank  che-iia-nali-wo-iiiiin-iniiig  gc-zin'-gud  gia 
tib-be-kud,  tuh-we  kc-kin-tio-wautch  che-gau-ta  gia  kc-ki-  iio-im- 
win-nun  ge-zhe-gud  gia  pc-boaii. 

15.  Gia  tuh-we  was-si-ahn  nun-nuli-we  gp-zhili  o-ko-tah-kuui- 
raik  che-was-siag  o-ke-tah-kum-mik,  mo-kali  c-slu'-wa-bug. 

16.  Gia  man-e-do  o-ge-o-zhe-toaii  ncczh  gitcbe  was-si-ahn, 
gitche  was-si-ah  che-tc-ban-duiig  iro-zbr-gut  iria  a-ga\v-sirig  was- 
si-ah  che-te-ban-dung  lil)-be-kui,  gia  o-ke-o-zhe-nauii  aii-iuing- 
wun. 

17.  Gia  man-e-do  puk-kit-te-naun  was-si-aii  nun-nuh  ko-zbik. 
onk  gitche  was-si-aig  o-ge-tah-kum-niig. 

18.  Gia  che-mus-ko-kung  ge-zhr-gut  jria  tib-l)i'-kut.  iria  chr- 
na-nau-we  num-ming  was-si-ah  gc-zlio-gut  gia  lib-be-kul  gia  iiiaii- 
e-do  o-waw-bun-daun  o-aish-shc-shing. 

19.  Gia  an-nab-koc'-zhik  ke-ko-zliaib-nc-n-ko-ni-uuk. 

30.  Gia  man-e-do  ke-e-ke-do.  iir-bccuL'^  tuh-we  oaii-je  iie-liib- 
we-ga  ba-mah-dc-zeet  mah-iiah-cheet  gia  be-iiais-si-wiiir.  ka-pu- 
i'vbuh  me-so-jig  nun-nuli  ke-zhik. 

21.  Gia  man-e-do  o-to-zheaun  (Jitche-mah-nuh-niaiir-wiiii,  <)ia 
kok-kin-nuh  ba-mab-de-ziil  ma-mab-cbeet  nc-bcciig  on-jc  lu-tab- 
we-kwug,  gia  ba-ba-zbik  wa-niii-srwe  kwini-nah-jik  bc-nais-se- 
wug,  gia  man-e-do  o-waw-bun-daiin  o-nish-o-shiiig. 

22.  Gia  man-e-do  o-giig-giih-no-naun  c-ke-tong,  tuli-Daii-jc 
ne-gin  gia  gitche-ne-bin-iiah  moosh-kin-nab-t(tag,  gitrhc-guiii-KU'. 
tuh-we  bah-te-no-wusi  be-nais-se-wusr  o-jre-tak  kuni-miir. 

22.  Gia  an-nah-koo-zhio;  ke-ke-zhaib  ni-ah-no  ko-ni-ouk. 

24.  Gia  man-e-do  ke-e-ke-do  ak-ke  tnli-wc  oaii-jc  iieton-we- 
go-be  mah-de-zit  ah-wes-se-ug  gia  ba-bah-ma-to-jig  ah-wes-sc 
o-ke-tah-kum-mig  me-gah  esh-e-wa-buk. 

25.  Gia  man-e-do  o-ke-o-zhe-aun  ali-wes-se-ug  clie-slio-naii- 
koo-ze-nit,  gia  ba-me-nint  ah-wefs-se,  gia  k(dv-kin-nuh  a-zlie-nali- 


-Ih.  1 1.1  ^".^mIi^i 


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,         „>    »  -  Jt"*"^ 


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Ui 


4:^0 


TRANSLA'llO.N. 


■h 


lioo-zit  ba-I)ali-nio-tait,  gia  mnn-o-du  o-waw-bou-daun  o-ilish-siie 

sln-I|ir. 

y().  Cia  inati-r-(lo  ko-c-kc-do,  ixnh  o-zhe-ah-naun  c-nin-nc,  a- 
/!)o-iiali-k()()-z('-iiiik  clic-nic-iiah-koo-zit,  a-zhe  kok-kin-nuii 
\vaiitch-clit'-yiih-zh(j-yunk  clic-slie-iiah-goo-zit,  a-zlie-kok-kcn- 
nuli  uautch-(!io-yali-zlio-yunk  chc-slie-nah-goo-zit,  gia  o-kah  te- 
ba-ne-niali-waiiii  kKk-kiii-niili  kc-jjoi-yug  gitclie-giun-mig  gia  be- 
iiais-sc-\vug  iniii-mib  bc-zhik-kounk,  gia  a-ucs-sc-yug,  gia  kok- 
kiii-mdi  ak-kf,  gia  kok-ivin-iiuli  ba-baJi-mo-ta-jig  o-ke-tah-kum- 
inig. 

37.  Ge  iiian-c-ko  o-ke-o-zbc-auu  e-nin-ne-wun  a-zhe-nah-koos- 
nit,  a-zlie-)iali-ku-zii  man-e-d(>  o-ke-e-zhe-aun  e-nin-ne-wun,  e- 
kwa-wun  o-zbe-naun. 

28.  Gia  inan-e-do  o-gug-gtdi-iio-naim  gia,  man-e-do  o-din-naim 
tub-oan-je  nc-tab-we-gin,  .^be-bab-li-o-iio-\vaud  che-moosh-kp- 
iiaig  ak-kc  gicb-c-to-Uiin-iiio-wauU-gia,  tc-bc-iic-nab-waiu  ke-goi- 
vug,  gia  b(vna-sc-\\  iiii  nun-nub  kc-zbik-koank,  gia  kok-kin-nuh 
ba-mab-ta-zil  o-kc-tab.-kuni-mig. 

20,  Gia  nian-e-do  ke-f-ke-do ke-me-nin  kok-kin-nuh  maun- 

(bin,  na-tali-\v('-gi-uk  o-ke-tab-kum-jnig,  gia  pa-pa-zhik  mc-tig. 
^\ain-Je  nc-taii-uc  gwi-iik  ka-ko  niab-ji-uk,  ke-nah-\vaw  Main-jc- 
nc-tab-v.c'-jfi-uk  kr-nie-jo-aig. 

30.  (Jia  kok-kin-nuh  a-w (!s-se-yug  o-ke-tah-kuin-mig,  gia  bc- 
na-sc-\vug  nun-nul>-kc-zbik,  gia  ba-bah-mo-ta-jig  o-ke-tah-kum- 
niig,  kok-kin-nuli  ne-mcn-aug-we-ug  o-mc-zhuli-kcen,  chc-nin-jc- 
sra-waut,  nio-kab-c-sbi'-t'-\va-buk. 

31.  Gia  inan-(-(i()  o-wa\v-i)un-daun  kok-kin-nuh  maun-dun  wa- 
zbt-to-te  o-nisb-Hhe-sbe-sbing,  gia  an-nab-koo-zhik  ke-ke-zhaib 
iiO-k(,'!-\va-;is-P(:-ko-ni  truk. 


'I    I 


M4J. 


IHK  KM>. 


■i'  i  !'■ 


/"v 


•* 


ben-daun  o-niah-she 


ih-naun  c-nin-nc,  a- 
a-zlie  kok-kin-nuh 
zit,  a-zhe-kok-ken- 
oo-zit,  gia  o-kah  te- 
he-giiin-mijj  gia  be- 
vt's-sc-yug,  gia  kok- 
la-jig  o-ke-tah-kum- 

vun  a-zlie-nah-ko08- 
un  e-nin-ne-wun,  e- 

naii-e-{]»>  o-din-naiui 
aiul  cht'-moosh-ko- 
nc-nah-waui  AC-goi- 
nk,  gia  kok-kin-nuh 

1  kok-kin-nuh  maun 

pa-pa-zhik  mc-tig, 

Le-nah-waw  Main-jp 

,h-kuin-mig,  gia  be 
ta-jig  o-ke-tah-kum 
lUh-kcen,  che-nin-jc 

n-nuh  maun-dun  wa 
oo-zhik  ke-ke-zhai^ 


S,«F^ 


